Clinging
by XxFuyukaina-BakaxX
Summary: AU Alfred is a normal happy go lucky high school kid whose biggest worry is getting away with not doing his homework. That is until a Russian freak transfers into his class and starts ruining his life. USxRus, PruCan, FrUK Rating changed to M!
1. Prologue

_ It was so very cold. The small 9 year old boy shivered helplessly, hugging himself tightly. A little girl, 5 years of age, snuggled close to him. She too shivered violently as she desperately clung to her elder brother for warmth. It was of no use though; he was chilled to the bone. They both were. The pair watched hopefully as their older sister slaved over the firewood, trying to light it. She was 14 years of age with short silvery hair and budding breasts._

_ Finally the young woman succeeded and a tiny flame of hope illuminated the dark frozen room. The two smaller children quickly scurried closer to the small fire. They didn't dare breathe less they extinguished their last ray of warmth. The eldest sibling quickly sat down beside her brother and sister, holding them close. The fire was slowly growing, casting its warm comforting glow on the shivering family. _

_ It all ended quite suddenly. The door slamming open with a loud a bang that made the smallest girl whimper in fright. The gust of wind rushing through the open door and extinguishing the fire quickly, only to leave freezing air in its wake. The boy wanted to cry in frustration but fell silent when the unmistakable thud of heavy footsteps rang through the air. The tiny girl tightened her grip on her brother and the boy returned it just as frightened. _

_ The eldest stood up protectively over them, though the others could feel her fear shedding off her in waves. The boy bit his lip at his inability to protect them. Sure he wasn't the oldest but he was the man! He should be able to protect his sisters from **him**. He watched silently, trying to shield his younger sister and warm her as the man they all knew too well entered the home. The stinging stench of vodka permeated the air as the man walked forward. He still clutched a half empty bottle of the offending alcohol in his hand. The boy held his younger sister close, wishing the man to just **go away.**_

_ Of course the man did not, instead he stalked even closer to his older sister. A predatory smirk crawled upon his dirty face as he advanced. The young woman was trembling in fright and tears were threatening to spill over her eyes. She spoke quietly, trying to hide her trembling fear. He responded with a loud yell full of atrocities. The boy quickly covered his little sisters ears trying to protect her innocence. The man quickly lunged, grabbing the young teen's arm tightly and pulling her toward him. She almost fell into him with the force, crying out in surprise. She wrenched at her arm, but it only made him tighten his bruising grip further. _

_ The teen was squirming, thrashing, anything to get away from the man. The man's smirk only grew as he whispered into her ear. The boy could only assume they were filthy things. He needed to do something but he was afraid. The scars still healing on his back were a testament to the man's violent streak. Another cry from his sister and he looked up to see her fighting with new found strength. The boy's eyes widened when he saw his sister's shirt was almost completely unbuttoned and merely hanged there. What was the man trying to do? His 9 year old mind furrowed in confusion._

_ His sister's face was a painting of fear, anger and embarrassment all swirled into one. She was covering her chest protectively but the man continued unabated. The boy new he needed to stop this, needed to stop this now and **forever**. He looked around the room quickly for some sort of weapon. His eyes fell upon a dirty old pipe that had fallen into the corner. The house was in a horrid state with wiring hanging dangerously from the ceiling and the plumbing falling apart. He tried to disentangle himself from his younger sisters hold. It only made her latch on harder._

_ He whispered soothing words to her and she finally loosened her grip. The boy threw a glance over at his older sister. The man was absorbed in his work of undressing her and hadn't noticed him yet. Quickly, he scurried over to the pipe and grabbed it. He winced as the pure coldness of the piece of metal bit at his skin. He ignored it, he needed to help his elder sister. Flexing his grip on the pipe, he turned back toward the scene. _

_ His sister was now crying helplessly as the man continued unfazed. The boy's eyes hardened and he rushed toward the man and smashed his head, careful not to hit his sister. The man's grip loosened immediately and he crumpled to the ground with a pain-filled shrieks. The teen girl quickly backed away covering her chest and watching the scene unfold with wide eyes. The man was yelling, spilling out curses and threats to all three of them. The boy wasted not another moment in swinging the pipe down. There was a sickening crack and the man fell silent. Blood pooled from his head and the boy found the glimmering ruby liquid to be quite pretty. _

_ Almost unconsciously, he repeatedly continued to hit the man with his pipe. His arms refused to stop even though he new their tormentor was dead. They just continued to lift the pipe and smash it back down on the body. He wasn't even aware of the tears spilling down his cheeks as he did it. He probably would of continued in this rhythm for hours if his older sister's voice hadn't reached him._

_ "Ivan" She murmured in utter shock, still trying to grasp the situation before her. The boy, Ivan, began to tremble and the pipe fell from his hands in a hollow thud. He slumped onto the floor as his legs gave way. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving and his eyes wide. He accidentally placed his hands in the pools of blood. He quickly retracted them, trying to wipe them of on his coat desperately. The blood refused to come off, staining his hands an angry accusing red. _

_ His elder sister remained silent, her mind in chaos at what had just happened. Her brother was in a similar state. The two were snapped back into reality at the soft voice of their younger sister. They turned to her sharply and trembled as she spoke what none of them wanted to accept. _

"_Брат, ты убил отца." _

"_Brother, you killed father."_

**AN:**

**First Multi-Chapter fic! Yay! Hopefully I'll stick to it!**

**I don't know Russian so I hope that isn't a total fail of a sentence.**

**I know the prologue short but its a prologue so deal with it.**

**Reviews make me smile! **


	2. Chapter 1

"Dad!" Alfred said annoyed, trying to pull away from the embarrassing embrace. His father finally relented, letting him slip away from his grasp. The boy huffed, tightening his grip on his Captain America backpack. He saw the bus pulling up and grinned brightly. Before he could get on though, he and his brother were wrapped in another suffocating hug. "Dad!" Alfred yelled once more as he tried to push away.

"I'm sorry." Arthur, their father, murmured pulling away once more, "It's just my two baby boys are growing up! I cant believe you're starting at your new school already." Alfred rolled his eyes and made a noise of displeasure as his father fixed his hair. He tried to tame the wild strand of hair that lay on Alfred's head but it was of no use. Defiantly, it sprang back up as if it only wanted to mock the Englishman and his failed attempts. "All right, off you two go. Be good." Arthur said, straightening up as the twin boys headed toward the waiting bus.

"Alfred! Don't get into any trouble!" He called after them, "And Matthew! Don't be afraid to talk to others!" Alfred groaned as he took a seat on the bus. Matthew slid beside him, trying to hide his red embarrassed face behind his white plush polar bear. The bus roared into life and they left their father behind. They were the first stop, and being the only kids on this street they were alone in the vehicle. Alfred frowned, he wanted to meet some new friends already!

Alfred was very excited at the prospect of his new school. The two brothers and their fathers had recently moved into this new neighborhood during the summer. Their old neighborhood had been quite frightening and the teacher that taught them there was always mean towards them. People in the neighborhood kept throwing things through their windows and writing on their garage door. Whenever he or his brother asked the teacher a question she would only say that she refused to teach 'fagot children'. One time, Alfred asked his father what 'fagot' meant. His dad only told him it was a bad word and to never say it again.

Their parents quickly had enough and the family packed their bags and moved to a nicer neighborhood. All the grown ups on their street were really nice but there weren't any children around. Alfred hadn't been very happy about that fact but his English father had reminded him of the new school. He would meet plenty of children to play with when he started attending it in September. Today was that day and so he willed the bus to hurry up and get to the school.

Matthew was much more subdued than Alfred. Unlike his brother, he was very nervous over attending a brand new school. He feared that this one would be just like the other. He didn't like being yelled at for something he didn't understand, nor did he enjoy the other kids making fun of him. He especially didn't like it when all the other students had started attacking him and his brother. He remembered calling for help from their teacher only to be refused and left to fend for himself. They returned home bruised and scratched with Matthew crying. That had been the straw that broke the camel's back. Right after the incident their fathers started to look for a new home.

The bus stopped causing the two boys to be pushed forward slightly. Alfred recovered quickly and peered over the seats to see more children piling on the bus. Three of them seemed to be siblings, they all had black hair and dark eyes. The eldest of them was tall with long black hair tied in a loose ponytail. The middle child, as it seemed, was slightly smaller than the first and had short black hair but with an unruly strand that curled. He was very animated and quickly climbed into the seat beside his older brother. The elder sibling didn't seem too happy about this. The youngest was a small child, shorter than Alfred by a head. He had short black hair and pale skin. He sat down alone on the seat in front of the twins. Alfred grinned at the prospect of a new friend and quickly sat up.

He nudged at boy in front of them who turned around slightly confused. "Hey! My name is Alfred Bonnefoy! I'm new and going to start the 2nd grade!" Alfred introduced happily. The other boy seemed surprised at the outburst before introducing himself politely.

"Hello Alfred-kun. My name is Kiku Honda and I will also be starting the 2nd grade." Alfred grinned happily doing a fist pump into the air. Kiku blinked at the behavior before letting slip a small smile.

The smaller boy's gaze flickered to the silent child next to Alfred. They looked very similar though the quiet boy had longer wavy hair and blue eyes that almost seemed violet. The boy was focused on the floor, hugging a stuffed polar bear tightly. Alfred followed the smaller boy's gaze and quickly nudged his brother. His twin shook his head and hid farther behind his stuffed animal. Alfred rolled his eyes turning back to the Asian boy. "This is my brother, Matthew. He's a bit shy." He introduced for his brother who waved his hand tentatively.

"It is nice to meet you Matthew-kun. Are you twins?" The Japanese boy asked softly.

Alfred nodded his head enthusiastically."Yep. Anyways how far is this school?" He asked impatiently looking out the window.

Kiku chuckled quietly at the boys impatience before responding, "We are almost there. I hope we shall be in the same class." He added with a warm smile.

"Yeah that be awesome!" Alfred agreed. Matthew said nothing but his lips twitched into a small smile. Maybe this school would be different.

Fortunately, they were in the same class, class 2A with Mrs. Picket. She was nice young lady with long brown hair and soft chocolate eyes. Her smile was warm and she was a lenient teacher. Unfortunately, she would have to deal with Gilbert Beilschmidt and Alfred Bonnefoy in one classroom. At first everything seemed perfectly fine, everyone was getting along with each other. Then recess came along and the children were released into the large grassy playground.

Alfred had run off with Kiku to go play on the swings, quickly forgetting about his silent brother. It wasn't very hard to do so, especially when he refused to speak to anyone due to his shyness. Matthew wasn't very bothered by this turn of events. Instead, he leaned against a tree watching his brother swing and holding his fluffy bear. A shadow passed over him and he turned his head to have violet eyes meet red. He blinked and turned to the newcomer. He was around the same height as him but that was when the similarities ended. He soon recognized the boy as his loud classmate, Gilbert.

Gilbert had short snow white hair and bright red eyes. His clothes were already covered in dirt and recess had only started three minutes ago. He wasn't the most polite child and was quite self centered. "Hey! You're that quite kid right?" He asked bluntly, coming closer. Matthew reddened backing away slightly toward the tree and clutching his bear. "Hello? Hey! Come on! Speak! Are you stupid or something?" Gilbert continued, getting slightly angry at receiving no response. The shy boy shook his head, hoping the albino would just go away and leave him be.

"Why can't you talk? Only idiots can't speak." Gilbert said, frowning as he reached a hand out to shake the other boy. Matthew let out a startled squeak and tried to squirm away desperately. His violet eyes began to tear up but the albino didn't notice. "So you can make noises? Then talk!" He shouted, shaking him harder. The silent boy let out another whimper as he was shaken violently. He tried pushing at his classmate weakly in order to stop him.

"Hey! What are you doing to my brother?" Alfred yelled, appearing next to his crying twin. Gilbert blinked in surprise at the sudden intrusion.

"I was just trying to get the idiot to speak." He answered, letting go of the shy boy. Matthew quickly backed away, burying his face into the soft white comforting fur of his bear. Alfred glared at Gilbert angrily, putting himself between the albino and his brother.

"Matthew is NOT an idiot! Don't you dare ever call him that again!" Alfred yelled defensively. Gilbert raised a brow, his own anger growing.

"Well maybe if he actually **talked** then I wouldn't think he was an **idiot!**" He punctuated his words with two hard shoves. In moments the two were rolling around on the ground kicking and punching. A ring of other students formed around them as they fought and spit out insults at each other.

Kiku quickly fled from the ring of students to find a teacher. Matthew watched worriedly as his brother fought the albino. He shied away from the group before frowning at himself. What was he doing? His brother was fighting for him! He quickly set Kumajirou, his bear, down on the grass near the tree before returning to the two. He squeezed through the crowd and grabbed at Alfred's arm. His brother glared at him and Matthew gasped when he saw that his brother had the beginnings of a black eye. It caused him to loosen his grip on the arm and led to the two boys fighting once more.

"Please stop." He whispered softly, tears slipping down his face. Seeing his brother hurt always made him hurt too. The two fighting students froze at the sound of the silent boy speaking.

"I knew you could talk! So you're just an idiot for not doing it soon enough." Gilbert declared happily. It received him a punch to the face which knocked him to the ground in his surprise.

"My brother is NOT an idiot. You're the idiot!" Alfred spat, his body trembled in anger. Gilbert was about to kick at his feet when Mrs. Picket rushed toward them with Kiku at her heals. She did not look amused. Gilbert inwardly groaned, this was so not awesome.

"You two are coming with me to the principle's office! We do not take fighting lightly in this school! We're calling your parents."The two frowned as they were dragged away by there sleeves. The crowd dispersed obediently since the students had lost interest. Kiku hesitated before deciding to hang out with his other friend Heracles for the rest of the recess. Matthew, on the other hand, quickly ran after the pair of troublemakers. He felt guilty for getting his brother in trouble.

The two were pushed into the administrators office toward the desk that housed an elderly lady. Matthew snuck into the room unnoticed by Mrs. Picket who left after depositing the two boys. He padded beside his brother and slipped his hand in his. Alfred jolted at the feeling before noticing it was merely his brother. He smiled down at him and squeezed his hand comfortingly. The elderly lady hung up the phone with a sigh before peering at the trio in front of her.

"Again Gilbert?" She sighed, quickly picking up the phone and dialing a number. "Go sit down. I know your number by heart from constant use." She snorted and waited for the phone to be picked up.

"Good to see you too Mrs. Miller." Gilbert answered with a grin before sitting down on the chair and swinging his feet impatiently.

Mrs. Miller straightened slightly as the phone was picked up. "Hello Mr. Beilschmidt...yes again...He got into a fight with one of the new kids...Yes...Thank you" She hung up the phone and turned to the albino. "I don't know how your father deals with you" She sighed with a slight smile.

"I don't know what your talking about Mrs. Miller. I'm just being my awesome self" Gilbert responded with a smirk.

"Right" She huffed unconvinced before turning to the brothers. "Hello dears, what are your names? I need to call either your Mother or Father. Do you know who would be freer around this time?" She asked mechanically.

"I'm Alfred Bonnefoy and this is my brother Matthew. Umm... I think you should call our Dad since the shop can stay open even if hes not there." Alfred decided, Matthew nodded his agreement. She nodded, pulling out one of the files. The name Bonnefoy read on the front of it. She scanned the page but paused, furrowing her brows. With an awkward smile she turned back to the two.

"I'm sorry but with your umm..._situation_ you'll have to specify which father." Gilbert raised a brow and tilted his head towards the two in confusion. The twins seemed unfazed. "Dad is Arthur" Alfred clarified and the woman nodded gratefully before picking up the phone.

"Hello Arthur Bonnefoy this is Patton Elementary School calling about your sons...Well it seems they got into a fight with another student...No it was both of them...I'm positive since they are both here...We need you to come to the school in order to sort this little scuffle out in order to prevent it from happening again...Yes I understand you're very busy...If that's the case should I call your husband instead?...I'm glad you've changed your mind...If you could hold the blasphemies sir it would be much appreciated...No you cant speak to him now...Sir, wait until you arrive here...Sir, calm down...Alright fine" She turned down to Alfred with an irritated expression and handed him the phone. "Your father demands to speak with you."

Alfred took the phone and put it to his ear. "Hello?...Hey Dad...Yes I know it's the first day...It wasn't my fault!...No...Mattie's fine, he didn't fight at all...Alright...Yeah bye...yeah, yeah whatever...I don't want to say it!...You wouldn't dare!...Ugg fine, I love you too" He said the last part quietly, his cheeks tinted pink before handing the phone to Mrs. Miller. Gilbert was laughing in his chair and Alfred glared at him as his face reddened more in embarrassement. The lady took the phone with a smile before turning back to the conversation.

"See you soon Mr. Bonnefoy." She hung up with an irritated sigh. "I cant wait to meet your father in person." She muttered dryly. "Now go sit with Gilbert, fight and I'll go corporal on your behinds with this ruler. You know I'll do it Gilbert." She added with a warning glare. The trio nodded obediently and stayed silent. Matthew sat between the two and the room felt tense.

Mrs. Miller bent down, opening a drawer. She pulled out two ice packs and cracked them easily. She handed one to to each beaten boy. Alfred thanked her before placing it over his darkening eye and Gilbert placed it on his swelling cheek. Matthew felt even worse about his brother's predicamet as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Mattie, how long you gonna keep up this silent thing?" Alfred finally asked. He, himself, couldn't stay silent for long and the atmosphere was suffocating him. Matthew turned to his twin and leaned over to his ear.

"I don't want to talk to other people. What if I say something wrong like at our last school?" He whispered quietly. Alfred's expression softened and he squeezed his brother's shoulder reassuringly.

"This school is different Mattie! You don't have to worry." Alfred assured. Gilbert watched them feeling left out. He could only hear half of the conversation but still payed attention, trying to fill in the missing pieces.

"I'm still afraid." Matthew murmured into his brother's ear.

"Gilbert, your father is here." Mrs. Miller announced as she saw the familiar car pull into the parking lot from one of the video screens. She saw the familiar blond man leave his car and walk over to the entrance. A couple more strides and he entered the room. Alfred gaped at the man. He was massive! And muscular! Gilbert's father was tall with blond hair slicked back. He had piercing blue eyes and a no nonsense aura about him.

"Hello Sarah" Mr. Beilschmidt greeted. "It's nice to see you again. Though I'm not very happy about the reason." He sent a glare at his son who pretended to act innocent.

"Hello Ludwig. We're waiting for Alfred and Matthew's father now. He should be here shortly." Ludwig nodded, sadly he was familiar with the whole process.

"I'll wait in the office. Gilbert come on, tell me what you did this time." He sighed as Gilbert hopped off the seat to follow him. The door closed with a click and the twins were now alone with the lady.

"It seems your father is here too." Mrs. Miller said after a few minute, looking at the screen. "He blond also?" She asked.

"Yep." Alfred answered and waited for his father to come in. The door opened and the short Englishman entered with a scowl etched on his face.

"Hey Dad!" Alfred greeted and received only a glare.

"Dont 'hey dad' me Alfred. You've been in school for less then three hours and already you've gotten into trouble. Worse you brought Matthew into it." Alfred groaned crossing his arms with a frown.

"Hello Mr. Bonnefoy, please go into the office. The principle will be with you in a moment." Mrs. Miller said politely. Arthur nodded absently before making his way to the door. Alfred and Matthew quickly followed suit and they entered the office.

Ludwig was already seated with Gilbert beside him chattering about his innocence and that the world just couldn't handle his level of awesomeness. Arthur's eyes widened when he recognized the man who was standing up to shake his hand. Ludwig also paused in recognition.

"Mr. Beilschmidt it's err good to see you." Arthur said awkwardly, shaking his hand. Why did his sons have to make trouble with his old boss' son?

"Yes. So Arthur I didn't know you had children?" Ludwig questioned glancing down at the twins. If he remembered correctly, his prior employee had married another one of his older employees. They were both men though, which meant child birthing was impossible.

"Francis and I adopted." Arthur clarified and Ludwig nodded in understanding.

The door open and a man with light brown hair hurried in. "I'm sorry for the wait. Things are a bit hectic, it being the first day and all. Ah, Mr. Beilschmidt nice to see you again." The principle greeted shaking the tall blond's hand.

Ludwig sighed, "I'm not very proud of the fact the whole staff knows me so well." He sent a glare in Gilbert's direction which was promptly ignored. The principle chuckled lightly before turning to the newcomer.

"Hello Mr. Bonnefoy, right? I am Mr. Douglas." He introduced and Arthur shook his hand. The five took their seats and the principle quickly explained the situation.

"Mrs. Picket has informed me that Alfred and Gilbert were fist fighting over some unknown cause when she broke them up. Would any of you two care to explain?" He asked, looking at the accused pair.

Alfred quickly stood up and began telling his side of the story, "I was swinging on the swings when I saw Gilbert pushing Mattie. So being the hero, I went over there. Then he called Mattie an idiot so I beat him up." Alfred explained easily.

"Hey! You didn't beat me up! I was so going to win that fight!" Gilbert shouted before Ludwig shushed him angrily.

"Alright Gilbert, whats your side of the story?" The principle asked mechanically. "And please, keep the adjective 'awesome' to the minimum." He added from experience.

"Well I was just being my normal awesome self and saw that kid that didn't talk the entire morning all alone by the trees. So I went over and talked to him but he refused to speak. I _may_ have called him an idiot but it wasn't my fault!" Gilbert quickly added defensively. The principle rolled his eyes and he settled them on the other twin.

"And Matthew? Can you tell us what happened?" He asked softly. Matthew stared at the principle before focusing on the ground and shaking his head.

"Y'see! He wont speak!" Gilbert shouted, pointing his finger for emphasis.

"He's shy!" Alfred defended as he glared at Gilbert angrily, warning him to shut up.

The principle sighed tiredly before looking back at the silent boy. "Matthew, please tell us what happened." He tried again, hoping the boy would come around. Instead, the boy sat up and pulled at his fathers shirt. Arthur leaned down obediently as Matthew whispered into his ear. The Englishman listened carefully and frowned glancing over at Gilbert. Matthew pulled away when he was done and sat back down. Once more, he hid beneath his polar plush. "Well?" the principle questioned, his eyes trained on the short blond man.

"Apparently, Matthew was standing by the trees alone. Gilbert approached him and spoke to him. Matthew didn't speak because he was frightened. Gilbert started calling him an idiot and shaking him. Alfred appeared and started defending him. Gilbert called him an idiot again and the two started fighting." Arthur relayed to the principle.

"I told you!" Alfred said happily, grinning in triumph.

"Alright, now that we have the issue all cleared up, Gilbert, apologize to Matthew" He ordered sternly. The albino sighed and looked over at the silent boy.

"I'm sorry I called you an idiot." He said obediently and received a forgiving nod.

"Good. Now, we don't take fights lightly here so as punishment the both of you are to clean up the classroom during lunch for the next week." The pair groaned and slumped into their chairs. Alfred tried to protest since he was only being the hero but his father sent him a warning glance. "All right, thank you very much for coming. It was nice meeting you Mr. Bonnefoy. You three should return to your class."

* * *

Alfred groaned as he was pushed into the empty classroom by Mrs. Picket along with Gilbert. The two glared at each other before separating into different corners of the room. Matthew had tried to enter in order to help his brother with his cleaning but had quickly been shooed away by the teacher. In her mind the boy was merely a victim and since he didn't actually throw a punch, he should not be punished.

Gilbert quickly made his way toward the front board and grabbed an eraser. Skillfully, he began cleaning the whiteboard, he was quite an expert at it by now. Alfred watched him before mimicking his movement on the side board. Though it soon became apparent that some of the black streaks would not come off. Alfred glared at the offending smudges before muttering at them. "Stupid board."

Gilbert let out a laugh as he heard the other boy. "So you're brother talks to nobody and you talk to everything, including white boards?" He mocked with a cocky grin.

"Shut up!" Alfred shouted sending him a glare. It wasn't very intimidating with pinkish tint of embarrassment plastered on his cheeks. Gilbert laughed more so Alfred did the only sensible thing. He threw his eraser at him angrily. The albino dodged it easily and gave his classmate an evil smirk.

"Fine, then I guess I wont tell you how to get rid of the smudges. You'll just get into more trouble and have to spend your _entire_ life cleaning this room." Gilbert stated cruelly. Alfred frowned, he did not like that idea of being a prisoner in this classroom and slaving over some stupid whiteboard for the rest of his days.

"Then tell me how." He demanded the albino, crossing his arms to look more official. Whenever his father wanted him or Matthew to do something he'd cross his arms and use a certain tone in his voice. It always seemed to work.

"Nope. You have to ask nicely." Gilbert replied, unfazed by his classmates attempts at authority. Alfred scowled, he still hadn't mastered his father's technique.

"Fine! Gilbert will you _please_ tell me how to get rid of the stupid smudges?" He asked, spitting out the word angrily.

Gilbert grinned but paused before giving the valuable information. "Wait. Tell me I'm awesome and I'll tell you." He added evilly, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Alfred rolled his eyes, "You're awesome, though not as awesome as me" He added with a smirk.

"Hey!" Gilbert yelled, a frown now painted on his pale face.

"What?" Alfred asked with his face woven into an image of pure innocence. "All you said was that I had to tell you that you were awesome and I did." He clarified, his expression then darkened and the smirk reappeared. "So hand over the info."

Gilbert scowled at the loophole before brightening. "Fine, only because that was a pretty awesome idea. You need to use the spray thingy. Teachers usually keep it in the desk." He explained helpfully. The albino padded over the desk and began pulling out drawers, any sense of privacy eluded him. He made a little 'ah ha' noise and pulled out the spray bottle. He held it out with a triumphant pose and Alfred raised a brow while also trying to cover his smile. "Okay, so you spray it and then wipe." Gilbert explained as he sprayed the clear liquid onto one of the smudges on his board. He took the eraser and passed it over the offending blackness. The stain came off like magic.

"Catch." Gilbert ordered flinging the bottle toward him. Alfred caught it easily with a grin. Sharing the bottle between them they were able to clean the boards with relative ease.

"Now what?" Alfred asked as Gilbert put the now half empty bottle away in the desk.

"We eat." Gilbert answered, going over to his cubby in order to grab his lunchbox. Alfred followed suit grabbing his tin lunchbox decorated with Captain America stickers. He glanced over at Gilbert to see his box decorated in Batman stickers along with...chicks, the bird kind. He focused on the former as he came over to him.

"You like superheroes too?" Alfred asked excitedly as Gilbert blinked up at him.

"Well, they're awesome so duh I like them." Gilbert answered matter a factly before taking a bite of his sandwich.

"You know, I'm going to a be a superhero too one day. I'm gonna beat the villains and save the girl! I'll have a cape and everything!" Alfred said excitedly and waved his hands about to further enhance his point. Gilbert didn't seem too impressed.

"Yeah right. If you ever do become a hero you'll never be as awesome as Batman" Gilbert stated with certainty. Alfred glared at the albino and crossed his arms with a huff.

"Batman isn't even that cool. Captain America is the awesome one!" He announced and Gilbert laughed at his nonsense. Alfred scowled before sitting down next to the albino and pulled out his fruit punch juice box.

"Hey, Alfred. You're awesomer than I thought. Truce?" Gilbert asked. Alfred pretended to think hard about it before nodding.

"Truce." He sucked on his juice happily, two friends in one day.

"Oh by the way, you're brother is pretty cute." Alfred promptly spit out all his juice and whacked Gilbert upside the head with a yell. The albino only started cackling as he rubbed his head. "I was just kidding." He lied between laughs.

* * *

**AN:**

From murder and abuse to… this

Yep, I just enjoy writing children and couldn't help it. Plus I wanted to give background to the characters... And PruCan! Yay PruCan! Even though there wasn't much in this chapter...

Actually its also to show that Alfred and Matthew come from a normal family...well normalish...

Let me rephrase that. They come from a loving family, unlike our little Russian.

Next chapter will have more PruCan and some FrUK...

Don't worry! Ivan and his trauma problems will come soon! Probably after the next chapter... I think..

I hope this chapter isn't obscenely long...It was going to be shorter but then it was too short...

I'm rambling now...

Oh Thank you so much for the reviews! They make me happy.

And about the random 'g's one reviewer pointed out...

I honestly have no idea how they got there, probably Iggy's Flying Mint Bunny placed them their since their not in my original file... So I'll edit them out...eventually...when I have time...

And yes, I made Ludwig Gilbert's father instead of his younger brother. You're going to have to deal with it because I'm the author and therefore have special powers... If it makes you feel better there'll be hints of GerIta...

I might end up writing a companion to this story about how Francis and Arthur got together because I adore them... Plus I imagine this weird back story and freaky first date fiasco that involved Feliciano and Pasta...0.o... Is that weird?

Maybe I'll just write a oneshot about it to appease my freaky mind...

Wow this AN is long and its abusing the '...'...

Ok I'm done... Thanks for reading this far! You'll get cookies (don't worry England didn't touch them)

Every time you review a Flying Mint Bunny gets it's wings~


	3. Chapter 2

"Dad! Why do I have to be punished for being Mattie's hero!" Alfred whined as he shuffled into their home. Matthew was close behind and Arthur followed, an aura of irritation surrounding him.

"Alfred! You got into a fight on your first day of school and made me leave work. Stop complaining, I could give you a much harsher punishment than no TV for the day." Arthur growled out, setting down his sewing machine on the floor by the door. "Now, would you like me to make any-" Arthur began before his sons quickly interrupted him.

"NO!" He blinked at them and reddened slightly at his inability to cook. "Dad, you KNOW you're not allowed in the kitchen!" Matthew scolded, he had inherited his culinary skills from his Papa thankfully. Arthur rolled his eyes with a frown.

"I'm not that bad..." The twins begged to differ listing many occasions when the Englishman had given them along with many friends, food poisoning.

"Fine, fend for yourselves." He said playfully, grabbing his tea kettle. "I'm making some tea, would you like any?" The twins shook their heads and instead ran up to their room to probably play some game or another. Arthur watched the kettle boil slowly with a soft smile. He remembered the stormy night the tiny twins had stumbled upon their doorstep. It had been like a gift from god. He had always dreamt of having children but fate was cruel and he fell in love with a damn Frenchman. At the time children seemed highly unlikely, what with them being both male. Luckily, his wishes were delivered onto their doorstep.

The kettle whistled and he poured the tea into his cup before sipping at it pensively. He glanced at the clock wondering when Francis would come home from his bakery. He said he'd make dinner tonight so he should be home to start preparing it. It was just like the bloody Frenchman to be late, thinking his bloody charming words would make up for it. He growled at his tea in frustration. He blinked when he realized he forgot something.

"Alfred! Matthew! Do you have homework? You better do it now!" He yelled up the stairs and heard the groans of annoyance that followed. There was the thud of two pairs of legs running down the stairs and soon the boys appeared before their father. "I was hoping you'd forgotten." Alfred sighed melancholic, trudging toward the kitchen table. Matthew followed as he told his brother he was over reacting. The pair sat down pulling out their books in order to do their simple second grade math problems. Though to them (specifically Alfred) it was the hardest homework they'd ever had.

"BONJOUR! VOTRE PERE EST LA!" _(Hello! You're father is here!) _The door was slammed open and a sing song voice swept through the house. Arthur groaned, rubbing his temples in frustration at the return of the bloody frog. Matthew on the other hand jumped out of his seat with a grin and ran toward his Papa. Francis bent down, picking up the younger twin easily and hugging him close. "Bonjour Matthieu" Francis greeted warmly, "Where is that devilish brother of yours?" He asked playfully, looking around.

"I'm right here Papa!" Alfred called from the kitchen, waving his arm for good measure. Francis made his way over, still carrying Matthew. He put the boy down and hugged his other son before flicking his forehead. Alfred scowled, swatting at the hand and looked at his Papa angrily

"What was that for?" He demanded.

"Bonnefoys do not pick fights, we make love." Francis answered before straightening up to his regular height. "Arthur! I have not gotten a hello! Why are you so cruel?" The Frenchman whined padding over to his husband. Arthur glared at him and tried to squirm away when his husband's arms wrapped around him.

"You're late." Arthur noted, resigning himself into the embrace.

"I'll make delicious dinner to make up for it." Francis said, giving his lover a peck on the lips. "And tonight I'll-" Francis couldn't complete his graphic sentence as the Englishman quickly kissed him to shut him up.

"Not in front of the children!" Arthur scolded, his face red as he disentangled himself from his husband. "Now make dinner before I do." Arthur threatened and the twins looked pleadingly at their Papa.

"Do not even joke of such horrors." The Frenchman said dramatically as he went to the pantry and grabbed his apron. He paused a moment. "Matthieu? Would you like to help Papa cook?" He asked warmly. Matthew nodded vigorously, he had done his homework anyway. Francis smiled and handed the boy a smaller apron.

* * *

Slowly, Matthew was warming up to their new school. No one had made fun of them or bullied them, well except for Gilbert on the first day. In fact, he had started speaking to others, mostly it was Alfred and Kiku though. He still refused to speak to Gilbert. The albino wasn't very happy about that fact.

"Matt! Come on! Just talk to me already!" Gilbert would shout and Matthew would shy away from him. Alfred would then send the albino a glare and Gilbert would sigh in frustration. He wasn't that scary, was he? He pouted and looked over at the younger twin. He really was cute, he didn't know why he thought so. Just the wavy blond hair and adorable curl that bounced in front of him. His soft violet eyes, so different from his harsh red ones. Matthew could be so awesome if only he'd talk to Gilbert! Then his awesome levels would soar into the sky!

"Hello? Earth to Gil!" Alfred said annoyed as he waved his hand in front of the albino's face. Gilbert looked up, his thoughts dispersing as he finally noticed the lunch bell was ringing. "Time for English! Or we'll be late" Alfred notified, getting up to run after Kiku who had already gone ahead with Matthew. Gilbert quickly stood up and ran after his friends into the crowded throng of students. Finally he reached their sides, then furrowed his brows. Where was Matthew?

Alfred and Kiku were conversing as they were pushed forward by the crowd. Matthew wasn't with them and his brother hadn't noticed yet. The German quickly looked around before spotting the quiet child pushing his way through the crowd. Only, he was going the wrong way. Gilbert quickly started to push his way through in the same direction when he discovered the reason for Matthew's behavior. Leaning against one of the trees was Kumajirou, his beloved bear. The twin must have forgotten to pick it up and just now realized.

Matthew wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings. His focus remained solely on his favorite plushy as he pushed through his classmates desperately. Finally, he was in the clear and ran quickly toward the trees... Just in time for the bear to be picked up by some middle school boys. He froze and stared as the much taller boy held his bear. The middle school was attached to the elementary and the older students had their lunch break after the younger students' lunch ended.

"This your bear?" the one holding it asked coldly as he stared at the small fragile boy. Matthew began to tremble in fear and he nodded quickly. "It seems precious doesn't it?" The boy asked his friends with an evil smile plastered on his face. "I wonder what would happen if we tore off its arm..." he mused thoughtfully. Matthew's eyes widened in fear and he tried to reach for the bear but he was easily pushed down to the ground.

"Leave him alone!"Gilbert growled coming over to them, he soon realized the middle school kids towered over him. "Look! Its that albino freak, the one all the teachers hate." The lead boy teased with a dark chuckle. Gilbert narrowed his eyes dangerously, his hands clenched into fists at his side. "Give. Back. The. Bear" He said darkly, his white hair shading his eyes. The middle school kid raised a brow and laughed at the tiny second grader.

"That's pretty funny kid." The boy laughed before quickly tearing off Kumajirou right arm. Matthew let out a strangled cry and he tried to grab at the bear desperately. Without another thought Gilbert kicked the boy right in the groin. The kid doubled over with a yelp of pain and Gilbert landed a punch on his smug little face. The two other middle school kids quickly grabbed at the German landing punches of their own. Matthew watched in shock.

One of the kids hit Gilbert in the mouth and his lip started bleeding. Matthew suddenly felt extremely angry. He was so afraid of everyone all the time. He hated it, he didn't even realize he hated it until now. This stupid kids hurt Kumajirou and now they were hurting Gilbert, all because of him. And he was doing nothing. His eyes narrowed and without a second thought he punched the first kid he saw. It was a blur after that, all he did was punch and kick blindly and angrily. He was sick of being the victim.

A teacher soon came and separated them all and she gasped at the state of the two elementary school children. The middle school hooligans were sent off to the principle's room immediately while the two younger boys were sent to the infirmary. Matthew was clutching onto his polar bear and its ripped arm while trying to salvage as much stuffing as he could. The bear had ended up in some mud due to the scuffle and it's normal snow white fur was now tarnished brown.

The nurse fussed over the both of them, bandaging up scratches and icing Matthew's eyes which was swollen so much that it would barely open. After she fixed them up the best she could, she left them alone to wait for their parents. "I never knew you could fight Matt" Gilbert complimented with new found adoration for the younger twin. Gilbert was surprised to receive a hug from the shy boy. Color blossomed on the albino's cheeks at being held so close by the cute little twin. What surprised him even more though was what happened next.

"Thank you Gil. Thank you so much". Gilbert froze before nodding his face now bright red. Matthew had actually spoken to him!

Matthew smiled at him warmly and felt like he should say more when the door burst open.

"MATTHIEU!" The Frenchman cried out loudly before hugging the boy tightly to his chest. "Mon pauvre petit Matthieu! Comme tu souffre! Mon pauvre petit ange!" _(My poor little Matthew! How you suffer! My poor little angel!)_ Francis whispered as he squeezed the life out of his son.

"Papa! PAPA! Je ne peut pas respire! S'il vous plait arrête!" _(I cant breathe! Please stop!) _His Papa finally listened and let go of his son to look him over closely. Matthew blushed as he realized Gilbert had seen all of that.

"Oh Matthieu, you are so battered! I know, I'll make you some ice cream and then we'll have pancakes for dinner!" Francis announced happily. Matthew grinned at the prospect before stopping.

"Mais papa..." _(But Papa...) _He said softly, anguish prevalent in his voice.

"What is it Matthieu?" His papa asked softly, his worry mounting.

"Regarde..." _(Look...) _Matthew murmured, holding up the poor mutilated bear. Francis eyes widened and then softened.

"Do not worry, Arthur can save him."

"He can?" Matthew asked unconvinced, he felt Kumajirou was dead forever now.

"Bien sur. He cant cook but he definitely can sew." Francis assured ruffling his son's wavy hair lovingly. That was when he noticed the albino watching them . "Ah hello, you must be Gilbert! I am Monsieur Bonnefoy." Gilbert nodded and was about to speak when his own father entered the room.

"Now you're picking fights with 7th graders Gilbert?" His father sighed irritably, coming over. "You're ok right?" Ludwig added, quickly noticing his son seemed more beaten than usual.

"Yeah, I'm doing awesome" Gilbert said as he gave the blond a grin.

The bell rang signaling that the class was over and in a flash Alfred appeared in the infirmary. He attacked his twin in a hug holding him close. Matthew hugged back with a smile before Alfred pulled away. "Do you know how I worried I was! Mrs. Picket said some middle school punks beat you up! Then she wouldn't let me see you 'til class was over and I only have 'til the bell rings!" He complained angrily before hugging his brother again. Francis chuckled at his sons before pulling the older one away.

"Get back to class Alfred. I'm taking Matthew home for the day." Alfred pouted then nodded, feeling slight jealousy course through him before he shook it away. Francis chuckled before pushing his son back out the door.

"Can I go home too, West?" Gilbert asked hopefully and the German groaned at the nickname.

"I have to get back to work Gilbert..." His father sighed scratching at the back of his head.

"He could stay with Matthew and I until you can pick him up." Francis offered, it felt weird helping his old boss. He remembered calling him such bad names.

"Please West! Please!" Gilbert quickly begged, he wanted to go on his knees but it would hurt too much. "I promise I'll be good."

Ludwig sighed, running his hand through his slicked blond hair. "Alright, but you better behave! I'll pick you up at three and you'll have to change your clothes in the car. Remember Feli is coming over for dinner." Ludwig finally acquiesced. Gilbert's eyes shined.

"Thanks West! You're awesome! Don't worry I always behave when Feli comes over" Gilbert said animatedly, he did love the italian man. Ludwig rolled his eyes, his son did not in fact behave ever when the italian was involved. The first time the redhead had come over Gilbert had been compelled to show him Ludwig's handcuff and whip collection along with his questionable magazines. The rest of the night could only be described as awkward, though Gilbert seemed oblivious that it was his fault.

* * *

"Alright, ice cream time." Francis announced running off to the kitchen with Matthew at his heels, though he limped slightly. Gilbert followed and gaped at the huge awesome kitchen. Francis chuckled at the boys face. "You like Gilbert? This is a true french kitchen." He said happily, he truly did love his kitchen dearly. It was always spotless unless he came home to find Arthur desecrating it with his atrocious murdering of the culinary art. It would take weeks to scrub all the scorch marks off the counter.

"Awesome! Can I have chocolate?" Gilbert asked jumping on one of the bar seats before wincing as one of his bruises throbbed.

Matthew sat beside him before murmuring, "Strawberry please". Francis nodded leaning down to get the ice cream out. Matthew gazed at Gilbert once more and the albino turned his head when he felt the other looking at him.

"Thanks again Gilbert" Matthew repeated and Gilbert blushed once more and focused on the counter.

"Stop saying that."He murmured, willing his cheeks to stop burning. He had finally gotten the silent boy to talk to him but all he said was 'thank you'. He wanted to have a conversation with the cute twin, not be constantly thanked. Matthew tilted his head silently confused before taking a bite of the pink ice cream that was placed in front of him.

"When we're done eating ice cream I'll show you our room and stuff." Matthew continued, it felt kind of awkward talking to the albino.

"That be awesome Matt." Gilbert grinned and Matthew's cheeks tinted a slight pink. The German found it quite adorable but he didn't say anything. Instead he focused on his delicious chocolate ice cream. Francis stared at the pair with an amused impression. Then his thoughts got progressively dirtier like they always did. His mind started with 'aww my little boy has a crush' and ended with 'Arthur would look delectable in that sexy pirate outfit...I should go pull that out along with some handcuffs.'

"Excuse-moi, mes enfants"_(Excuse me children) _Francis spoke as he went to leave the kitchen. "I have to...prepare something..." He said vaguely before ascending the stairs toward the master bedroom. Matthew shrugged before turning back to his friend, yes friend. He smiled at the thought as he watched Gilbert finish his ice cream. Gilbert blinked, flushing at the attention the cute boy was giving him.

"Umm...Matt, you're kinda creeping me out..." He said and Matthew quickly blushed before turning away.

"S-sorry! Um here give me your bowl so I can put it in the sink." The twin said quickly trying to recover from the awkward situation. Gilbert let out a laugh at his classmate's red face, it was too cute. He handed the boy his bowl before standing up and wincing. He couldn't wait til tomorrow when everything would hurt ten times more. At least tonight he could enjoy Feli's delicious pasta.

"Gil, wanna come to my room?" Matthew offered to which the albino quickly nodded. He followed his classmate obediently as he lead him up the stairs. They passed the locked door of the master bedroom where...suspicions sounds were emanating from. Matthew quickly hurried passed it, he did _not_ want to know what his Papa was doing. Gilbert shrugged off the noises, he was more intent on following Matthew and seeing his room.

* * *

Gilbert had already left by the time that Arthur and Alfred arrived home. The former quickly rushed toward his beaten son examining him closely and worriedly. He then hugged him before letting Alfred fuss over his younger twin. Matthew quickly pulled away, more important things on his mind. He grabbed Kumajirou and his severed arm and shoved them into Arthur's hands.

"Dad! Dad can you save him? Please! Papa said you could!"Matthew pleaded as tears threatened to spill from his eyes. Arthur looked down at the bear, assessing the damage. He smiled warmly at his son and nodded.

"Do not worry Matthew, the bear will be fine. I'll go sew him up now." Arthur declared and Matthew felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders. Kumajirou was going to be just fine. Arthur then turned toward the stairs to go up to his room, it was where he kept his sewing supply. Francis hid his evil grin as he watched his husband walk up the stairs.

There was a loud piercing scream that echoed throughout the home and shook the house. Alfred's and Matthew's eyes widened and they quickly rushed up the stairs with the identical cry of "DAD!" Francis on the other hand was laughing, bent over the counter as he tried to calm down. Soft footsteps stampeded toward the master bedroom door worriedly. "Dad? Dad!"

"DONT YOU COME IN HERE!" Arthur yelled angrily through the door. The twins halted and looked at each other confused. "FRANCIS! GET YOUR ASS IN HERE AND EXPLAIN THIS!" Arthur shouted. Francis calmed himself down before skipping up the steps innocently. He found the twins staring at the door in utter confusion.

"Why don't you two go watch a loud movie hmm? Daddy and I have something to..._discuss._" The two second graders blinked in confusion before shrugging and heading to their room. Francis then opened the door and was pulled in by an angry Englishman.

The twins could here the loud conversation from their room. Well, actually they could only here Arthur's part since he seemed adamant about yelling all of his responses in his fury. They listened to the partial conversation curiously.

"Francis why the hell are there rose petals everywhere? And the pictures! When did you take these pictures?...What the hell do you mean Elizaveta installed a camera! Where is it?...What do you mean there are four!...Different perspective my arse! Francis I can't believe you!...What do you mean that's not all?...BLOODY HELL I AM NOT WEARING THAT!...STOP IT!...Francis! Give me my shirt! NOT THE DAMN PIRATE ONE! That's not even a shirt its a piece of cloth!...Get your bloody hands off me you bloody lecherous frog!...No I wont calm down!...I HAVE VERY GOOD REASONS TO BE ANGRY!...Wait, whats that on the table...DEAR GOD! GET THAT THING AWAY FROM ME!...DONT YOU DARE TURN IT ON!" Arthur shrieked. The twins furrowed their brows and there was loud vibrating sound emanating from their parents room. It suddenly stopped and there was more scuffling before their father continued his yelling.

"I swear Francis if you pull out one more toy from that box I-HOLY MOTHER OF GOD! I turn around for one second and you've already stripped completely! Have you any decency?...What children? Shit... FRANCIS I'M GOING TO K-ahh." The yelling abruptly stopped and the twins exchanged glances. Alfred quickly put in the first DVD he could find and raised the volume up loud trying to drown out the weird noises their parents were making. Thank god it wasn't as loud as their father's yelling.

* * *

AN:

Yay adorable innocent PruCan and Yay not so innocent FrUK.

I adore them both XD.

You have no idea how much I enjoy writing Perverted Papa Francis...

And I love writing partial conversation where you have to fill in the gaps yourself. They're so much fun to write! And I adore flustered angry Arthur...

Sorry for the wait but I have a life too...Well sortof

And we discover what Ivans been doing next chapter!

Oh and I want to clarify that Kiku's older brother with the curl was Korea...

It doesn't really matter since he's not important at all.

Review !

Oh and Kumajirou eventually did get fixed once Arthur finished _discussing _things with Francis.


	4. Chapter 3

Ivan woke up knowing today would be a bad day. Not that any day was a good day. Only that today would be much worse. He had woken up from his usual nightmare trembling and with a loud gasp. After he evened his breathing and had calmed down, the bad feeling settled in.

The first clue being waking up with only one sister beside him. His right arm, as usual, was numb from the bruising grip of his dear younger sister. She was curled around his arm and shivering. Ivan pulled up some of the rags they called sheets in order to cover her more. She twitched in her sleep but did not wake up.

On his left there was an empty space, which was unusual. Usually, his eldest sister would sleep beside him trying to warm them both. Not this morning though. The space was empty and cold. The twelve year old frowned and tried to pry his arm from his sleeping sibling. The girl's eyes fluttered open and she stared at him sleepily.

"Go back to sleep, Natalia. I will be back" He whispered soothingly. She frowned and squeezed his arm tighter, telling him silently that she wanted him to stay. Natalia didn't speak much, she didn't like other people. In fact, she ignored everyone but her siblings. They were her world. Ivan sighed and gently detached his arm from his quiet sister.

"Then follow quietly, I must see where Katyusha has gone." He conceded, his sister nodded and slipped out of the old mattress with him. She grabbed onto the end of his coat tightly as he lead the way out of the area set aside for the beds.

Ivan crept towards the dimly lit hallway of the poor Russian orphanage. Everything was dark and dreary, the paint chipping everywhere. He heard the faint noise of hushed arguing and he felt something growing in his stomach. He tensed and continued down the hall towards the voices, Natalia following him wordlessly. Two more hallways and they found the small room that was an office for one of the owners of the orphanage. Ivan peered through a crack in the door to see his sister sitting in the chair. She seemed to be begging. A bad day indeed.

* * *

_After the death of their father and sole care taker, the three siblings were forced into a poor overcrowded orphanage. It was out of desperation that they had to live in the horrid place. With no food, no money and no heat they had no choice but to enter the sickly building._

_ They slept on an old mattress in the large "bedroom" where many dirty mattresses were left haphazardly. Usually, it was five per bed and they had two other children sleeping with them. There were no assigned beds either, it was first come first serve. There were many nights Katyusha slept on the ground so that her two siblings could sleep on a crowded mattress. The sheets were always dirty and ripped. Worse though they were thin, many children died just from the cold._

_ Food was also in short supply. They ate twice a day, a small bowl of porridge and a bit of bread. Sometimes they had a meager strip of chicken. Water was also hard to come by, the pipes always seemed to be frozen. The children were meant to help keep the place in order though there were few staff members to enforce such rules. Most of the children would curl up in corners in a vane attempt to keep warm instead of work. _

_ They did have school though, which was arguably the only good thing about the place. Katyusha made sure her siblings attended every day, even though it wasn't a very good education. It was an education none the less. She herself tried only to find to much difficulty. She was fourteen and had yet to grasp the Russian alphabet let alone be able to read. Instead, she dropped out, feeling it better she do odd jobs in the orphanage for some money. She would then sneak out to the nearest town a few miles away and try to buy some warmer clothes for her siblings._

_ Even though she dropped out she was adamant that Natalia and Ivan continue their education. Ivan turned out to be a quick learner, grasping the Russian alphabet with relative ease and trying his hand at the English one. That was another thing good about the poor school. They had an English teacher. Katyusha knew English was important to learn, it was the number one language in the world._

_ She had always heard stories of poor people going to a far off place called America and earning millions. It was a land of promise that she could only dream of reaching. So, she encouraged her brother into learning the language, hoping some day he could get out of their poverty. Natalia on the other hand was more difficult in the school program._

_ She didn't talk or make friends and was hostile towards her teachers. She learned to read Russian easily enough, what with her being quite young but had no interest in learning anything else. It was only until Ivan asked her to try harder that she did. _

_ Ivan didn't talk in class either. He preferred to observe others silently. He didn't want to be near others. Other people were usually bad anyway. All he needed were his sisters. Everything else was bad and cruel._

_ Of course a deeper reason he didn't dare touch was there too. Ever since he had killed his father he had been afraid. Afraid he would kill someone else, afraid he'd hurt more people until he couldn't stop. Deathly afraid he'd hurt his sisters in the process. No, he'd stay away from others just in case. Other people only caused him suffering. At a young age he closed the door of his heart and bolted it shut._

_ So, Ivan, Katyusha and Natalia spent there childhood days in a depressing orphanage. Everyday fighting the cold and hunger. Trying their best to keep from getting sick and surviving the cold winter nights. Three years went by slowly and Ivan truly hated their circumstances. But at least, he reasoned, they were together._

_

* * *

_

Back in the cold deserted hall, the preteen pressed closer to the door in order to hear what was going on. His eyes darkened as he began to listen to the conversation.

"Katyusha, you knew this day would come. We have barely enough food to feed the children we have! You are 17 and therefore must leave. It's the rule. There is no room for discussion." The man stated coldly.

"But Mr. Winter what of Ivan and Natalia?" She continued wiping at her eyes. The man stroked his white beard and thought a moment in order to recall who these names belong to.

"Your siblings will continue to be cared for until they to are 17." He answered, his voice detached to the subject all together. Ivan felt his hands clench, they were making his sister leave?

"What will I do for food?" She continued desperately. "I can barely read!"

"That is your problem now isn't it dear? I'm sure you'll be able to find some sort of employment. I can think of one you would excel at from looking at you." He commented, his eyes no longer meeting her face. Ivan slammed the door open angrily releasing a growl. The two pairs of eyes turned to him surprised. Katyusha's red eyes alerted him that she had been crying.

"Ivan! What are you doing here? Go back to sleep!" Katyusha ordered pathetically, wiping at her eyes in order to hide her grief. Ivan ignored her and instead glared at the man, the owner of the orphanage they resided in.

"Don't dare disrespect my sister!" He yelled angrily and received a raised eyebrow.

"I have no time for these theatrics, Katyusha be gone in an hour or we'll have to remove you by force." Mr. Winter finally announced, ending the conversation. The eldest girl quickly scurried out of the room along with her siblings.

"Katyusha? What is happening?" Ivan asked as he followed her through the halls toward the exit of the orphanage.

"I have to leave Ivan. I'm sorry. There is simply no room for me to stay." She answered quietly. Ivan's eyes widened and he grabbed her about the waist refusing her to move anymore.

"You can't go. You can't." He demanded angrily.

"I have to Ivan" She murmured trying to pry his arms away from her so she could continue down the hall.

"Then I'm going with you!" He declared crossing his arms.

She turned around and bent down to his height. "No Ivan. You shall stay here. You get food and a bed along with an education. And maybe you shall be adopted. You and Natalia are staying."She ordered sternly. Ivan frowned at her and shook his head. She softened slightly and hugged him close. "Ivan please. I only want whats best for you and your sister. So stay here and take care of each other. And be good."

He nodded finally but looked at her with such sadness. "And you? What will happen to you?" Katyusha sighed and wiped at her eyes.

"I will try and get a job, maybe I'll be able to adopt you both." She bit her lip and hugged them both tightly, longingly. Ivan held her too and he could tell his sister was crying again. He didn't cry, he refused to be weak when his sisters needed him.

"I promise, one day we'll all be together again." She whispered before pulling away. She gave them each a kiss on the forehead and whispered more goodbyes. As she stepped away she faltered. She felt at her neck and unraveled her scarf with care. She wrapped it back around her brothers neck much to his surprise. Gave them each one last kiss before leaving the halls accompanied by soft sobs.

Ivan watched her go, his fingers touching the scarf reverentially. Natalia stood beside him confused. Her eight year old mind not understanding what really had just happened. "How long will Big Sister be gone?" She asked quietly. Ivan turned to her before looking back at the fading image of their sister. "I don't know" He answered truthfully.

For the first time in a long time Ivan wanted to hurt something, someone. He thought back to the day he killed Father. He hated thinking about it, it filled him with strange feelings and anger. Lots of anger. He had taken much care to not hurt anyone since then, knowing he could make things worse. The orphanage they were put in after their caretakers death was a poor one. With too many children, most sick. The place was on its last breath. Everyone was underfed and kept in close quarters.

Instead, Ivan had focused his deteriorating mind in school getting the best grades along with picking up the valuable skill of knowing English. But now, now Ivan didn't know anymore. Bottling down his urges to hurt others had brought him nothing. Merely a pathetic life in a crumbling orphanage and now they had taken away his sister.

He wanted to hurt Mr. Winter because he was to blame. No, he wanted to kill him. Ivan smiled darkly into the empty hall. When was the last time he had smiled? He shook the thought away and instead focused on the idea of ending one of his tormentors' lives. He wondered if there were any pipes lying around.

"Brother" Natalia whispered bringing him from his thoughts. "School starts soon" She murmured. His plans would have to wait. Katyusha had always praised him on his good marks and he knew she would be disappointment if he lagged behind.

"Yes Natalia".

But still, Mr. Winter's days were numbered.

* * *

Ivan could not fulfill his promise for another three years. The urge had grown since then, especially since he received no word of his sister. What if she were dead? Each day with no news brought him further to the depths of insanity.

Mr. Winter wasn't helping his case either. No, he fed fuel to the fire. The owner had taken an interest in the young orphan when he noticed his excelling marks in the poor school. He didn't like it. These children were orphans, abandoned because they were lesser beings. Why was this child so smart? Everyone knew these children would be dead in a few years, the orphanage had a death at least every day from either sickness or malnutrition. Even if they were lucky enough to survive til they were 17 and kicked out they had only a life of poverty ahead of them.

Most of the young adults that left were then victims of alcohol, addiction or suicide. For some the only employment available would be prostitution. Life was quite dreary for a Russian orphan. So why then was this boy so smart? Did he truly believe he could make his life better? Mr. Winter laughed at the very thought. The boy was doomed from the very start, no one would save him. No one would care to even extend a helping hand. Best to break the spirit now before it grew to be a problem.

So, Ivan was subjected to private 'meetings' with Mr. Winter in order to 'discuss' his progress. Of course that was merely a disguise in order to abuse the poor boy. Ivan had scars to prove it. Thankfully, it only stayed at the level of physical abuse. Never did it go to the horrid level of sexual abuse. Unfortunately, one meeting at the tender age of 15 that itself changed quite drastically.

Ivan at first had no idea what his abuser was doing. Usually, he had to take of his shirt in order for the other to whip him. But today he was told to remove his pants. He hesitated, only to receive a slash to his clothed chest with the whip. He gritted his teeth, refusing to cry out before following the order grudgingly. The boy was uncomfortable to say the least. Mr. Winter's eyes felt as though they were eating him up. He knew something was wrong when elder grabbed at him and put his hands where _no one else was suppose to touch_. That's when he began to thrash angrily, forget plans he had to deal with him now.

He wrenched free from the grip and looked around the room desperately. There was no trusty pipe this time. Only meager office supplies. And the whip. The whip that was currently on the floor forgotten. Without another thought he lunged for it and cracked it on his tormentor's surprised back. He smiled at the scream, what a pretty noise. At this moment he wanted nothing more than to hear it over and over again. With that thought he continued to whip Mr. Winter.

Blood ran down his abusers back like a river and he did not stop. Red was such a beautiful color. So rich compared to the shades of gray that surrounded him all his life. He wanted to see more. But Mr. Winter though bleeding profusely, was not dead. Ivan wanted to make sure he was dead. He kicked the man over so he was on his bleeding back and knelt down. He wore a dark smile as he wrapped the whip around the orphanage owner's neck tightening it quickly and drinking up the chokes and gags. He heard a sickening snap and Mr. Winter was no more. Ivan stepped away and admired his work. A loud manic laugh sounding from his chapped lips. Tears flooded down his cheeks as he shook from his laughs. He dropped the whip and ran out of the room.

He had done it. He had killed him but he felt worse than ever. His mind felt dizzy and weighted down, his hands once more covered in the angry red color. Accusing him of the murderer he was. He didn't understand anymore. He didn't understand anything. Everything was too confusing and hard and he just wanted to give up on the world. It was too hard, impossibly hard. What was right and what was wrong?

Was killing Father the right thing? He abused them, but he was their father. Was this orphanage the right thing? Sure it was shelter but it was poor and decrepit with death looming over each occupant. Was that right? To be forced to live this way? Was anything right? There were too many shades of gray in his life. The line between good and bad seemed blurrier than ever. Gray. Everything in his life had always been dreary and gray. The red on his hands the only lively color he'd ever experienced.

It was a pretty color, a wonderfully vibrant color. But it carried to many dark things. Death, murder. It carried guilt and hurt and suffering. He didn't know if he should hate the color for bringing him such misery or love it for bringing his boring life some excitement. What he did know was he didn't want the color on him, it reminded him of what he had just done. Ivan didn't know what to do anymore, he didn't know anything anymore.

He wanted his big sister now more than ever.

* * *

There was a lot of chaos following the bloody death of Mr. Winter. Everyone knew Ivan had done it but there was nothing they could do. If they called the police than the government would discover the conditions in this hell hole and they would lose all their jobs. Instead, they stated the prior owner died of old age. The rest of the staff focused on getting Ivan out of their hands, lest they be his next target. He was too young to be kicked out so they tried getting him adopted. But no one was interested in a 15 year old boy.

When a mysterious brunette visited the center and asked for the boy by name it was like a god send. The staff members were jumping for joy at the thought of getting rid of the homicidal child. Ivan though was very confused. One of the staff members had whisked him away from class and had pushed him into the small meeting room used for prospective adoptions. He had never been in it. Inside was a timid brunette man with a soft nervous smile. Ivan was already an inch taller though he had not yet finished growing.

"H-hello Ivan. I'm T-toris Lorinaitis and I would like to adopt you and t-take you back home with me to the states." The man spoke quietly with a nervous stammer.. Ivan raised an eyebrow and looked at the man skeptically. "You don't believe me..." The other murmured mostly to himself before fumbling with his pockets.

Ivan wondered what this was all about. Why would anyone adopt him? He was a malnourished teenager with homicidal tendencies. The brunette finally revealed a slightly crumpled letter. He slid it across the table over to the teenager. Ivan stared at it a moment before picking it up tentatively. He blinked as he looked at the script on the envelope that only had his name written on it. Could it be?

With new found interest he opened the envelope slipping out the letter carefully. His eyes widened and he began to read almost desperately.

_ Dear Ivan,_

_ Brother, I hope you and Natalia are doing good in the orphanage. I'm sorry I have not kept in touch. Where I am there is no time to write and mail a letter, it cost money too and I do not have enough. I know that you are nearing 17 and will be forced to leave the orphanage. I fear for that day. Then I met Mr. __Lorinaitis__. He is a very good friend of mine for the past few months and now he is returning to his home in America. He has offered to take you with him and I pray you let him. I am afraid he has space for only one and so Natalia must stay. But she still has time in the orphanage unlike you. You also speak English. So Ivan, please I beg of you let Mr. __Lorinaitis__ take you to America. Hopefully one day we will all be reunited. For now go with him. _

_ Your Dearest Sister,_

_ Katyusha _

Ivan stared at the letter in the rough crude script of his lost sister. He looked at the brunette with wide violet eyes. The man shifted uncomfortably and gave him a weak smile.

"How is my sister?" Ivan asked quietly, looking at the brunette intensely.

"W-well she's doing the b-best she can. She always talks about you and your sister" He responded. Ivan nodded and held the letter close.

"I'll go with you" He whispered.

Toris sat up not hearing the murmur, "I'm sorry? I didn't quite catch that."

"I'll go with you to America" He repeated and then he smiled a sick smile and Toris shivered. What had he gotten himself into?

* * *

And that is what our little Ivan has been up to.  
I hope this chapters ok, i like rewrote it twice...  
Thank you everyone for taking the time to read this story!  
All your reviews make me all warm and tingly inside!  
So next chapter Alfred and Ivan finally meet! And our American friend is now sixteen and in high school  
I might focus a chapter on a Francis and Arthur and how they got together and adopted the two brothers...Hmmm I have to think..  
So tell me what you think and I'll see you in the next update!


	5. Chapter 4

"Yo Alfred, I heard some creepy transfer student is coming to your homeroom." Gilbert said, leaning against the locker beside Alfred's. The albino had grown but was still shorter than the twins by 2 inches. He didn't care for that fact but he figured he would continue growing and overshoot them by at least a foot. He was just that awesome.

"Yeah I know, who transfers in the middle of the school year?" Alfred mocked with a chuckle, pulling out his U.S history books and placing them in his bag. He closed his locker with a muffled slam before shouldering his backpack. Gilbert straightened up, following his friend toward the cafeteria where Matthew and Kiku were already seated.

"Kiku! Did you get the homework in Algebra?" Alfred asked, sitting down next to his brother and in front of the Japanese teen. Kiku rolled his eyes with a sigh and held out a piece of paper with the homework written.

"Really Alfred-kun, you mustn't doze off every math class and expect me to explain how to do your homework." The Japanese scolded. Alfred gave an innocent smile.

"It's not my fault the teacher is so boring that I sleep!" He defended, taking the paper and folding it into one of the pockets in his bag. "And thanks, you're the best!" He turned to Matthew with a sly smirk. "I heard your new french teacher is super hot." He gave the boy a wink and Matthew blushed profusely and focused on poking at his lunch. Gilbert frowned and stabbed at his bland mush the cafeteria called food. How dare they give Matthew a hot teacher! She was no match for his hotness anyway! Wait, what was he thinking?

"Ms. Shell is nice! And this is her first teaching job so be nice to her." Matthew said, trying to alleviate his blush.

"Uh huh" Alfred grunted, unconvinced. Matthew rolled his eyes and took a bite of the mushy cafeteria food. Gilbert pursed his lips, maybe he should drop German and take French with Matthew so he could watch him...But Matthew was in like French 3 Honors... Damn it! This was so not awesome!

"Gil! Gilbert!" Matthew yelled grabbing at the albino's hand. Gilbert blinked before staring at the mess he had made. His food was now a colorless pile of mush. He reddened slightly before chuckling dryly. "You ok Gil?" Matthew asked, worried.

Gilbert brushed him off with a wave of his hand, "I'm just awesome Matt". The younger twin didn't seem convinced but dropped it and settled back in his chair. Alfred took a bite of his burger (he had sneaked over to the McDonalds down the road between classes) and Kiku ate quietly from his homemade bento.

"Oh, Alfred-kun, Matthew-kun do you know when that transfer student will be arriving? Isn't he in your homeroom?" Kiku asked, his curiosity rising slightly.

"Yeah, the kid is in our homeroom. I think they said tomorrow... I hope it some hot chick, we need more hot chicks in this school." Alfred smirked leaning back in his chair.

"I bet it'll be some ugly fat dude with your luck Al" Gilbert teased, laughing at his own brilliance. Plus, if its a hot chick then its more competition for him!

Alfred rolled his eyes, righting his chair up before he fell and embarrassed himself...again. "Well, we'll find out tomorrow."

* * *

It was not a hot chick. It also was not an ugly fat dude. He was male though. Ivan Braginski was his name and he was an extremely tall teenager with light blond hair which could rival Gilbert's snow white hair. His eyes were violet, dark and distant. A beige scarf clung to his neck and he wore black gloves on his hands. There was weird aura surrounding the new kid. As soon as his homeroom teacher introduced him Alfred had decided that this kid was a freak.

Now that may seem rash but Alfred had his reasons. This new kid was obviously a weirdo because he exhibited many weirdo attributes. First off, he never took off his scarf, sure it was November but inside the building it was comfortable 60 degrees. Still the foreign teen refused to take off the garment. Strike 1.

He didn't talk either. He just stared at people. The kind of stares you feel boring into your skull so you have to turn around to see who the hell is looking at you so intensely. And instead of looking away, knowing he had been caught, Ivan would just continue to stare. Observe. It was creepy as hell. Strike 2.

When Ivan did speak on the rare occasion he decided too, he did so in short curt sentences. And when he spoke it was in a thick accent the American could not identify. It was very hard to understand and when you asked him to repeat something it felt like the room got colder. Ivan would stare at the poor victim whose instincts of flight would kick in to save him. Strike 3.

Ivan was always smiling. Not a warm happy smile like Alfred's. Not a small smile like Matthew's. Not a polite smile like Kiku's. Nor a huge grin like Gilbert's. No, Ivan had the creepiest smile in existence. It was childlike but held a threat along the lines of 'I will kill you in your sleep'. It was scary as hell. Strike 4.

If this were baseball Ivan would already have been out by now, sadly though he had even more qualities that kept his classmates at bay. He always wore his black gloves for one thing, he didn't enjoy others company and he ate on the roof. Which wasn't even allowed but none of the teachers had the guts to stop him.

Alfred knew all these things not because he was some creepy stalker who had been watching the guy, but because he had the unfortunate pleasure to share 5 classes together including lunch and homeroom. He had come to know these facts over the course of two days of having the Freak in his classes. He hadn't spoken to him yet, even though they sat side by side in one class where the teacher had assigned seats.

So Ivan was a Freak. It was a fact. At least Gilbert and Alfred agreed on this point together. Matthew thought this conclusion was unfair and mean. Instead of making fun of him, he insisted they help him out since he was new. Kiku agreed with the younger twin but admitted he didn't really want to go near him.

Alfred didn't know what to do about the creep. They had U.S history (the one where he was forced to sit beside the freak), homeroom, Art and Chemistry together so it wasn't like he could stay away from him. He shrugged and decided to just ignore him and go on with his day. But for some reason he wanted to know more about the weirdo...There was some sort of aura of mystery around the new kid that drew him in...

* * *

"Hey! Guess who decided to eat in the cafeteria like a normal person!" Gilbert exclaimed, pointing his fork over to the tall student who was now sitting alone at one of the tables. Alfred blinked in surprise at the sight, that was odd.

"He looks lonely..." Matthew observed playing with his food as he sneaked glances at the loner. Being shy and reserved himself, he felt sympathy for the new kid. He was a transfer from another country, he must be frightened and scared. "Maybe we should go talk to him..."

"Hell no, Matt! Have you even looked at him? He's a total freak who wants to kill anyone who comes near him!" Gilbert stated matter of factly, taking another bite of the tasteless food. No way in hell was he going to let Matthew go near the huge guy and get hurt. Matthew rolled his eyes at him before putting on a little smirk.

Violet eyes turned over to his brother, "I bet a hero would go over there and talked to him."

Alfred paused in his eating and raised a brow. He looked over at Ivan, eating alone and pursed his lips. Should he go over there? It did seem kind of heroic to go over there and bring him out from his antisocial slump...

"What would I say?" He asked his brother, seriously considering going over there.

Matthew shrugged, "I don't know...Why not ask what country he's from?"

"I bet he's from Freakastan" Gilbert cackled and he shook with laughter at his own joke. Matthew rolled his eyes and sighed at his friend's stupidity. Alfred too ignored the albinos dumb pun and instead stood up.

"'K, I'm going." He stated as he padded over to the table.

The three others watched silently as the American made his way towards the transfer student. Matthew suddenly felt weary about the whole idea. Maybe it hadn't been the best thing to do...He bit his lip and gave up on his food in order to give his full attention on his brother.

"Yo! What up Ivan?" Alfred greeted with his signature smile as he stood right in front of the new kid. Ivan looked up slightly surprised and recognized the teen before him as that loud one in his homeroom. Though his name escaped him... Alfred waited for a reply before realizing he wasn't going to get one.

"Anyway so uhh...I was wondering what country you were from?" Alfred tried, hopefully the kid would open up and stop being such a cipher. God this was hard and awkward. He glanced back and received a thumbs up from Gilbert who was grinning smugly. Matthew encouraged him silently. He turned back toward the transfer student and waited for his answer.

"I am from Russia" Ivan answered dully, he was just trying to eat his food. He was surprised to see the Americans eyes widen and him stepping back. He raised an eyebrow at the reaction.

"HOLY CRAP HE'S A COMMIE!" Alfred exclaimed loud enough that the whole cafeteria fell silent. Ivan twitched slightly and felt the urge to hurt start growing. He stood up slowly, menacingly, until he was at his full height. Almost a head taller than the American. Matthew had his face in his hands. Why was his brother such an insensitive idiot?

"I do not think it very wise to call me that, American." The Russian warned his smile still in place but his eyes a shade darker. Alfred shivered slightly but he never backed down from a challenge. His idiot pride wouldn't let him.

"Why not?" He spat with a smirk. Who did this guy think he was? Just because he was super tall that he could stop him form using his right to Freedom of Speech? Well that surely wasn't going to happen. Obviously the commie didn't know how things worked in the awesome country of America.

"Because, those who do will get hurt." Ivan continued loosing his patience quickly. Obviously this kid was an idiot. An idiot that needed to be dealt with.

"Oh yeah? Well I think you're a commie. A **big** **fat red** **commie**!" He jabbed a finger at the others chest for good measure. What he didn't expect was for the other to put a hand in his golden hair. In one swift movement Alfred's head was violently acquainted with the table top.

"Alfred!" Matthew shrieked in absolutely shock as he raced to get up and over to where his brother was repeatedly being smashed into the table. Ivan had not stopped his beating because Alfred, always the stubborn idiot, had started to chant 'commie' while thrashing about in the strong grip. It didn't seem to matter to him that he was bleeding quite badly over the table.

In seconds Matthew was there trying to pry at Ivan's hands to get him to let go. He was screaming for them to stop. Ivan to stop hurting his brother, and his brother to stop his stupid chant. Gilbert had raced over also and was trying to pull the big Russian away from Alfred and Matthew...mostly Matthew. The last thing Alfred remembered was Matthew screaming and a harsh command from a teacher before everything went black.

* * *

Alfred woke up in the hospital. He groaned, his head felt like shit and the lights were way too bright. He let out a loud moan of pain when he tried to sit up, quickly sinking back down. There was scurrying around the room and a face appeared right in front of his own, surprising him.

"Thank god! You're awake!" The voice said with a sigh of relief. The British accent told him it belonged to his father and he blinked his eyes a few times. The world came back into focus and his eyes met the emerald pair of his father along with those obscenely large eyebrows. "Do you know how worried we were? The bloody hell were you thinking? Why did you keep saying that!" Arthur accused angrily, trying to mask his obvious worry and relief that his son would be fine.

Alfred groaned again before answering, "I don't know what your talking about. My head hurts!" He whined squirming in the bed with a pout. Arthur rolled his eyes at his sons behavior, was he really sixteen? Seemed more like a 3 year old at the moment.

"Of course your head hurts, you got a bloody concussion." Arthur explained dryly and watched as his son took in the information slowly.

"ngn... How'd I do that?"

"You made fun of your new classmate. Or at least that's what Matthew told me." Arthur answered now remembering he should probably tell his other son and husband that Alfred had woken up. They had left to get some food knowing Alfred would probably whine about needing some burgers when he woke.

"New classmate?" Alfred mumbled, still trying to work out his brain. It hurt! Damn, it felt like a hammer was hitting his skull repeatedly.

"Yes, the Russian one" Arthur said impatiently as he pulled out his cellphone to call the frog. Alfred's eyes widened and he remembered lunch, being the hero and getting smashed into the table.

"The damn commie gave me a concussion?" He growled angrily. Oh Ivan was so dead now.

"Alfred! Stop calling him that! Just because he's Russian doesn't make him a communist, Russia isn't even communist anymore." Arthur scolded as he put the phone to his ear waiting for his husband to pick up. Alfred rolled his eyes and frowned. Damn it! His head was pounding and it was all the stupid commie's fault. Yeah commie. Obviously commies were the villains of democracy and therefore Ivan was a villain himself. No one hurts the Hero! Luckily the commie didn't know that the hero always wins in the end!

"Yes Francis he's up. Just get over here... Why isn't Matthew with you?... I thought you were both getting food..." Arthur was speaking to the phone before he got bright red. "Why the bloody hell would you go into that store!...Your son is in the hospital! This is highly inappropriate Francis!... No I am not wearing whatever you bought me!... Will you just get out of the bloody sex shop!" He yelled into the phone before slamming it shut.

Alfred made a gagging noise and Arthur remembered his son was right there. His red mortified face stared at the hurt boy before stammering about needing to go wait for Matthew and quickly running from the room. Alfred let out a laugh and rolled his eyes. He hopped Mattie would get here soon...Concussion aside he was hungry.

* * *

Matthew sighed as his brother stuffed his face as they drove home. He was quite relieved he was ok. There had been so much blood on the table, he had worried over the possibility of his brother suffering some brain damage. His brain was damaged enough as it was. He seemed to be alright though.

Ivan was suspended for three days and he was to apologize to Alfred when he got back. And the American had to apologize himself for his mocking. Alfred wasn't too happy about this and was already forming plans of tricking the other into not giving an apology. It wasn't his fault the other was giant Russian freak.

"I just don't see why you kept mocking him" Matthew reasoned, it had really been bothering him. Why couldn't his brother be more cautious? Or at least not an idiot?

"I wasn't mocking him! I was warning others of the evil that resides within him. Sheesh Mattie! I'm the victim here! But don't worry, next time I see him I'll give him a few blows in return." Alfred declared with a grin. Matthew groaned rubbing his temples.

"Alfred that wont help! Stop picking fights with people. Its annoying" Whenever Alfred made enemies he often had to suffer too because they shared the same face.

Alfred rolled his eyes and winced as they hit a bump on the road. Couldn't Papa drive a little slower? His head was throbbing again! Stupid commie and his stupid strength. He'll show him! He can drive a good punch too! He'll sock him right in the face, the gut and maybe rip off that damned scarf. Yeah. That's what you get for messing with the Hero!

Matthew still annoyed at his brother's behavior felt a tremor in his pocket. He pulled out his vibrating cellphone and looked at the text.

_H0ws teh idi0t? _

Matthew snickered quietly to himself before quickly typing his reply.

_The idiots fine and would it kill you to learn to spell? Honestly Gilbert it isn't that hard. -.- _

He was about to put his phone away when it vibrated once more.

_Dont b such a smrt a$$. My tping iz AWE$OME \m/(-.-)\m/  
_

Matthew rolled his eyes but couldn't get rid of the small smile on his face. There was just something about the obnoxious albino that kept the twin smiling. He really did like him...maybe more than he should. He blushed slightly and willed the thoughts away.

"Why are you blushing?" Alfred asked, oblivious as always. Matthew reddened more at being caught.

"N-nothing! Ju-just something Papa said earlier" He lied quickly, the excuse always worked. Alfred shuddered in understanding and squeezed his brother's shoulder comfortingly.

Finally, the family pulled up into their drive way and exited the car. The four made their way to the house, the two men bickering as usual. Once inside the phone rang and an irritated Arthur picked it up.

"Yes? Oh! Hello Toris...No this isn't a bad time, the frog was just being annoying. How was the trip? …Well you're going to have to tell me everything that happened. A year long adventure to eastern Europe is quite a tale." Arthur chuckled pleasantly as his friend continued to speak.

"Oh of course they've missed you! You've been taking care of them since they were four!... Don't be so modest you were a great babysitter... Actually, Alfred just got back from the hospital with a concussion... Some fight with him and some other student...Are you alright Toris? You sound worried about something... Anyway, you should come over for dinner sometime. We'd love to have you... Room for one more? Have you finally found someone?"Arthur chuckled once more in a teasing matter before tensing.

"What?...I don't think I'm hearing you right, bloody old telephone...He's a teenager...Toris what were you thinking? You're too young to raise some orphan teen!...You have a lot of explaining but I'm sure we can make room for him...Alright, just call us back soon so we can set up a date...It was good talking to you, lad...bye" Arthur hung up, his brows furrowed.

He was so deep in his concentration he didn't react as arms slipped around his waist and pulled him into a strong chest.

"Qu'est qui ce passe?" _(Whats going on?)_ Francis asked, nuzzling into the messy blond hair.

"It seems Toris has adopted a teenage orphan during his travels..." Arthur answered, still horribly confused at what could have lead his friend into doing such a thing.

"Vraiment? How strange... He must of planned a long time for it though..." Francis answered, equally puzzled.

"No, it was apparently spur of the moment... But adoption processes are so long... It took us three months to finally adopt the twins..." Arthur pulled away from the embrace in order to face his husband.

"Maybe different countries have different protocols. You invited him to dinner, oui? We can ask him then." France decided leaning down and kissing the Englishman who returned the kiss. Arthur pulled away after a moment.

"I'm going to go check on Alfred, then I'll do some research."

"D'accord. I'll start dinner. Maybe Matthieu can help me..." Francis replied, going through his head on what the menu for the night should be. Arthur nodded and left the kitchen to go find his elder son and make sure he was alright. "Matthieu!" Francis called and smiled at the familiar soft steps of the quiet twin as he came down the stairs.

"Oui Papa?" The teen asked as Francis opened the fridge.

"Tu veux m'aider avec le diner?" _(Do you want to help me with dinner?) _The Frenchman asked his son and received a vigorous nod. He grinned and motioned for the teen to come over.

"Do you want to invite the loud one over for dinner? We could make something _special _for him_._" Francis gave his son a wink and enjoyed the blush that bloomed on his soft cheeks.

"Gilbert isn't that loud" He defended quickly, even though he knew that was the biggest lie of the century. People in China could probably hear Gilbert crystal clear. "And I don't like him like that." He quickly added, okay maybe _that_ was the biggest lie of the century.

Francis chuckled and wore a knowing smile. "Of course Matthieu, of course."

* * *

Ms. Shell= Seychelles

Wow...I just keep updating..hehe...  
Seriously this story is so much fun to write...  
And in case your curious the seen where Ivan's beating this shit out of Alfred when he calls him a commie...Thats what gave birth to this story  
I just kindof woke up and thought up that scene and was like "I should totally write a story with that in it" and Voila!  
Also I am going to show Francis' and Arthur's backstory. I already have it planned out. Its going to be so much fun to write. I love those two.  
It probably wont be until the chapter after the next...I'm not entirely sure yet...But it is coming! And it shall be epic~  
Next chapter Alfred gets his revenge...sortof... And Gilbert works up his nerve! Woot~!

I'll see you in the next update  
Reviews are as sweet as Matthews maple syrup and as awesome as Gilbert's five meters XD  
Thanks again for reading!


	6. Chapter 5

Ivan found America to be quite fascinating. Everything was colorful and loud. The buildings were tall and sleek and seemed to touch the clear blue sky. The weather was warm, much nicer than the freezing conditions in his homeland. The airport had been huge and bustling with crowds of people. It was noisy too, the Russian didn't much care for it. He didn't like being near people and having to push through crowds wasn't exactly amusing.

Airport security didn't seem to like him either. Toris showed his passport and they checked his bag superficially and let him through. He copied Toris, showing his new passport that he had gotten easily enough. The orphanage was only too happy to help get him out of the country. The security guards looked at it carefully and then at him. He was then pulled aside to have a metal detector pass over him.

They even made him remove his scarf which he did after arguing. It was the last thing he had of his sister, he never wanted to part with it. They emptied out his bag and searched through it carefully before throwing the contents back in. They shoved his bag back into his arms and told him he could go while giving him a scowl. He could here them muttering about 'commies' and 'soviet spies'. Ivan clenched his fists and bottled in the urge to hurt.

Toris gave him a nervous smile and quickly lead him through the airport to his car. It was Ivan's second time in such a vehicle and he still found them quite nerve racking, though he didn't show it. Soon, he found himself slipping into sleep, the jet lag finally getting to him.

He was awoken when Toris started to shake him fearfully. He blinked his eyes open and stared at the frightened brunette.

"Are you a-alright? It s-seemed as if you w-were having a n-nightmare..." The man mumbled nervously. Ivan blinked and inwardly sighed, even in a new country he would be plagued by his past.

"Da, it happens. Do not worry." He answered and found that they had reached the house. He unbuckled himself with a bit of difficulty and got out of the car.

Toris frowned and chewed at his lip. So the boy had nightmares? Katyusha said that they had had a hard childhood, Ivan especially but she hadn't disclosed anything too specific. He sighed, maybe Ivan would tell him? Though he knew that was highly unlikely. The teen was introverted and hadn't spoken much at all during their time together. The brunette quickly followed the Russian into his home.

The house was nice and clean and he thanked his brothers inwardly for keeping the place so tidy while he was away. He'd have to call them to tell them he had arrived safely and about...the new addition. Ivan, meanwhile was busy walking around the house absorbing everything.

It was huge compared to his normal living standards. Everything was so clean, the white walls were still white. There were tables and chairs, paintings and pictures, even a TV which he had heard of but never actually used. He absorbed everything with a childlike curiosity not usually seen in a 15 year old. He reached the end of the hall to the bathroom and couldn't help himself. He turned one of the knobs on the sink and was delighted to see crystal clear water flowing from the top. He couldn't suppress the wide grin on his face, they had running water.

"Ivan? Would you like to see the upstairs? I can show you your room..."Toris spoke up, slightly confused with the boys fascination with his sink. It didn't seem that interesting, it was just a normal sink. Ivan looked at him, shutting off the faucet and nodded. The brunette lead the way to the stairs, Ivan following him with a creepy smile in place.

"Uh...Anyway this can be your room...Its the guest bedroom..." Toris stated opening the door to a normal bedroom. It had a queen sized bed with pristine white sheets. Two windows faced the front lawn, there was a small closet and a dresser. Beside the bed were two nightstands. Hanging on the wall was a single painting of a flower Ivan didn't recognize.

"This is just for me?" He asked, a bit shocked. Surely this was too big for only him. Toris blinked in surprise.

"Yes, this is for you" He answered, he wondered what kind of living conditions Ivan had been living under. The Russian ventured into the room and sat on the bed, finding it extremely comfortable and so different than the dirty mattress he was accustomed to.

"So you shall not be sharing this bed with me?" He asked confused, it had always been five to a bed. He had never slept alone. Toris flushed at the questions and stammered. Surely Ivan didn't mean it like that!

"Uh...N-no, I stay in m-my own bed..." He answered quickly. Ivan blinked at the reaction, how odd.

"I have never slept alone before..." He murmured to himself. Toris bit his lip, maybe he could offer to sleep next to him tonight? But he didn't want to be that close to him! He was quite frightening. Thankfully Ivan had moved on, his eyes trained on the painting.

"What is that?" He asked. Toris eyes flickered to what the teen was looking at and he furrowed his brows. Did the boy really not know?

"Its a p-painting of a s-sunflower" He responded quickly, he hoped the conversation would end soon so he could call his brothers.

"A sunflower? I've never seen one before. It is pretty. It is vibrant and yet there is no red." He mumbled to himself and glance down at his hands. Soon he was lost in thought. Toris stood there awkwardly, shifting about on his feet.

"I'm going to go call my brothers. Eduard is in college and Raivis is in a boarding school so they wont be back here until winter." He spoke hurriedly, nervously while disclosing more information than he would of liked. He quickly left the room after Ivan gave him a nod.

The Russian laid down on the bed, the feeling of comfort so alien to him. He wondered how his sisters were doing. He cringed when he remembered leaving Natalia. She had clung to him and begged him not to go to the point where it was frightening. He still remembered the last bits of conversation they had.

_"Brother! You cant go! You must stay with me!"_

_ "Natalia, Katyusha wants me to go, I will write you letters. Soon we will be reunited, you shall see."_

_ "Brother, if you go I will kill people too! And then they'll send me to America and I'll find you! Don't go!"_

_ "Natalia! Do not murder, you must never do such a thing. It is wrong. Promise me you won't."_

_ "But Brother, you've killed before."_

_ Ivan hesitated and hugged his sister tightly. "Just promise brother you will be good" He finally murmured._

_ "...I promise"_

Ivan rolled over, shuddering at the memory. His sisters honest words seemed so eerie to him. _But Brother, you've killed before. _He pushed it to the back of his mind and instead thought of tomorrow. His first day in an American school.

* * *

Toris didn't know what to do as he drove silently home. Everything seemed to be going so well. Ivan had been attending school only two days and now he was bringing home for a three day suspension. Apparently, the boy had gotten into a fight and had given the other teen a concussion. He paled at the thought, surely that wasn't a normal fight since it had ended so brutally...

Toris merely focused on the road as Ivan watched the world through his window. He didn't know how to address the issue without instigating some violence from the boy. He didn't want to get hurt either. Finally he worked up his nerve.

"Do y-you know who the o-other boy was?" He asked, trying to sound calm and casual. Ivan shrugged.

"Nyet, I do not remember his name. He is in my homeroom though." He answered simply. Toris frowned, he wanted more information.

"D-do you r-remember what he looked like?" He asked cautiously, glancing at the Russian. The tall teen didn't seem to be showing any sort of aggression...yet.

"Da, he was blond with short hair and blue eyes. He was shorter than me. He had an odd hair that stuck out, I wanted to rip it out." He responded easily, watching the blue sky as they neared the house. Toris gulped, that description sounded awfully familiar. He gripped the steering wheel tightly.

He licked his dry lip and swallowed before opening his mouth once more. "C-could his name—Could his name h-have b-been Alfred?"He asked and prayed to god the answer was negative. Ivan thought a moment and smiled that creepy smile of his.

"Da. I think that was the name his brother was screaming." He answered cheerfully, so the idiot's name was Alfred... Interesting...

In contrast, Toris paled considerably. He'd have to call the Bonnefoys to make sure his suspicions were alright.

* * *

Gilbert glared at the albino in the mirror. Damn this was harder than he thought. He scowled and took a deep breath before trying again.

"So...Matt...I'm awesome and you're awesome...so we should get together because it be awesome..." He tried, his usually loud boisterous voice shaky and nervous. He stomped his foot angrily. He had to get this right!

"Hey Matt, you want to see my five meters?" No! Matthew wouldn't react to that well...Damn it...

"M-matt it be really awesome if you would go out with me..." No, that sounded way to pathetic. He had to be the man! Sweep him off his feet and all that jazz.

"Matt, you, me Saturday or else." No, that was too demanding...bring it down a tad. Shit this was hard! He was getting frustrated.

"**Damn it! Matt just have my babies already!**" He yelled at the mirror before flushing. No. Just no. That wasn't even biologically possible and came off _way _too desperate. He hoped West hadn't heard that...Thankfully, Feli was keeping him busy in the kitchen by teaching him the best pasta recipes or something. He turned back to the mirror.

"Go out with me please." No, too needy. Damn it all to hell! He had to be suave and charming and awesome.

"Gilly! You're forcing it too much! You have to be natural ve~" Gilbert nearly jumped at the sound of the peppy Italian in his room. He turned around to find Feliciano at his door with a warm smile on his face. The albino blushed and quickly turned away, thinking up some excuses.

"Why are you here?" He asked angrily as he tried to mask his embarrassment.

"Ludwig told me to get you for dinner! We're having pasta. Isn't it wonderful?" Feliciano answered happily bouncing on his feet. "You're practicing how to ask that cute blond right? The one you've had a crush on?"

Gilbert flushed darker and scowled crossing his arms and the Italian giggled. "Well Gilly, you should just say what naturally comes out. Don't force stuff out." He advised happily. Gilbert pursed his lips in thought.

"Here, pretend I'm him and say what first comes to mind ve~" Feliciano offered and smiled encouragingly at the albino. Gilbert nodded after a moment and opened his mouth.

"M-Matt...I like you a lot and so I was hoping we could go out sometime. It be really awesome." He said nervously, glancing at the floor.

Feliciano clapped his hands, "Perfect!"

"R-really?" Gilbert asked before realizing of course it was perfect. He himself was perfect.

Feliciano nodded. "Yes! Now lets go have pasta in celebration!" He cried out, dragging the boy down the stairs toward the already set dinner table. Gilbert laughed and followed happily. Tomorrow he would ask Matthew out and he'd accept and then they'd get married and adopt awesome children. Well at least the first part would happen...

* * *

Alfred was bored, extremely bored. Sure the three days off in order to recover from his concussion were awesome at first but now he was just _so_ bored. The first day he played all his video games and watched a bunch of movies and now he had nothing to do!

He spent his mornings on the couch, forced to watch little kids shows or whatever was on animal planet. Gah! It was just so boring. It even got to the point where he was begging Dad to stay home from work in order to entertain him in such way. Even though he knew Arthur's definition of fun was reading some novel or embroidering.

So he spent his hours of solitude suffering in utter boredom and focusing all his anger to the one who caused it all. Stupid commie and his stupid concussion giving stupidness. He wanted to punch that creepy smile right off his face. Rip that damn scarf to shreds and show his commie ass that America was the best damn country in the world.

So the evening of his last day of suffering he was bursting with energy. Tomorrow would be a great day, he knew for sure. He'd get to hangout with his friends and punch a communist. A truly wonderful day.

Unfortunately, things didn't go entirely as planned.

* * *

Short chapter is short  
But look! Quick update! heheheh...  
Look I had to end it here or it would be WAY too long so yeah... And the next chapters like half written so stop whining...! Sheesh!  
... I still love you!

Anywho~ This chap was Ivan centric about his experience in America along with Gilbert being adorable and minor GerIta...Be happy!  
Next chapter will be when Alfred gets his revenge...I wonder how that will work out...hehe  
So I shall see you all in the next chapter!


	7. Chapter 6

Alfred was actually happy to be going back to school. Being home alone was so boring! And his head didn't hurt much anymore. He just wanted to hang out with his friends and have some fun again. Stupid commie and his stupidness. He was such a creep. What kind of person just knocks someones head on a table repeatedly? Freak.

Alfred sat beside Kiku on the bus like usual, his brother in the seat behind him. The Japanese teen was giving Alfred all the work he had missed over his absence, much to the others annoyance.

"Can't you just like lose it or something? Ug, I hate more homework" He groaned, bashing his head on the back of the seat. Kiku rolled his eyes and continued explaining the work as calmly as possible. The bus grinded to a halt and Alfred grudgingly accepted all the papers from his friend. The trio stepped off the bus an onto their high school campus.

The Japanese boy left them at the entrance to the school, his first class being in another building. Matthew and Alfred continued together toward their lockers arguing about football and hockey and which of the two sports were better.

"Hey! Alfred! How was the time off?" Gilbert greeted, coming up to the twins. Alfred grinned at him and lied that it had been great. "Well I'm stealing your brother for first period!" He said grabbing at the younger twin's hand and dragging him away. Alfred rolled his eyes and turned to his locker, opening it to take out his books. Spanish first, then Chemistry with the damn Russian. He inwardly groaned and stuffed his books in his bag.

Meanwhile, Matthew was being dragged down a corridor by a jittery albino. He frowned as the halls became less and less crowded and he realized they weren't heading to Geometry. He stopped forcing the German-wait Prussian as he insisted to be called- to stop also. Gilbert turned to him slightly confused.

"Where are we going?" Matthew asked skeptically looking around to find the hall basically empty. He glanced at his watch and noticed they still had 10 minutes before class started. Gilbert didn't answer and looked at the ground. A nervous grin on his face and...was that the beginnings of blush? Matthew was thoroughly confused.

"Umm...Well.." Damn it! Come one Gilbert! Stammering was not an awesome way to ask your crush out! Geez. This was why you had practiced! "I-I wanted too...Damn it." He cursed rubbing at the back of his neck nervously.

Matthew looked at him with a raised brow and he wondered what was going through the teens mind. And then he realized. He was his Papa's son. He blushed furiously but couldn't help the pleased smile that slipped past his lips. Gilbert was too focused on the floor to see it. So the albino was finally going to ask him out?

"You see...uh...I was hoping...that uh..." Damn it! He had to sound suave and charming! He had to draw in all of his awesome skills and do this right. This wasn't that hard, just a couple of words for god's sake. Just do what Feli told said. Focus!

Matthew on the other hand was trying to suppress a giggle as he watched the albino struggle helplessly. How his reddening face was twisted in complete concentration and determination. How he kept flexing his hands and scratching the back of his head. It was quite adorable...but class was going to start soon... The blond never liked being late to class.

"Wh-what I'm trying to s-say is...uh...that..." _that I want to go out with you because your awesome and I'm awesome and we could have awesome babies together. _No! He couldn't say that. He just had to be natural. Why was this so hard? Darn it!

"Yes." Matthew answered and Gilbert finally looked up surprised. He stared at the younger twin and tilted his head in slight confusion. "I'd be happy to go out with you Gilbert." Matthew clarified, blushing slightly and with a warm smile.

Gilbert blinked before his grin spread to his ears even though he was bright pink. "I always knew you would succumb to the awesome me." Matthew scoffed but his smile didn't disappear and he leaned over to press a chaste kiss on the albinos pale lips.

He pulled away before grabbing his hands and dragging him back toward Geometry. Gilbert felt as if he was on top of the word. He let the twin lead him through the halls, his thoughts swimming in happiness. Matt had said yes!

* * *

Alfred left Spanish class in a happy mood. He had come just in time for one of the monthly fiestas. God he loved chips and salsa. Food always made him happy. He walked past the halls humming the star spangled banner happily to himself. Then he saw him. He froze and anger coursed through his very being. The freak stood there, peering at the door labels, looking for his class. Alfred glared at him angrily before striding confidently toward him.

"Commie!" He snapped and Ivan turned around with a raised eye brow before smirking down at him. Ah, it was the idiot from the cafeteria. And he still hadn't learned his lesson. Maybe he needed to be refreshed on his lesson? It would be easy en-

Without warning a fist knocked into his face and he was pushed back by the force. His eyes widened and he cupped his bleeding nose and stared at the grinning American.

"Don't think I'm some weakling you here me commie. You don't want to mess with the hero!" He warned. Ivan stared at him for a while and let go of his bleeding nose. He glanced down to see that his gloves were covered in blood. He stiffened, his eyes darkening dangerously as he stared at his hands. Memories flooded his brain drowning him as they reminded him of the other times he'd had blood on his hands.

Alfred was going to walk away but he noticed how the freak wasn't moving. He just stared at his hands completely transfixed...and was he shaking? Alfred waved his hand in front of the Russian but got no reaction. The bell rang obnoxiously and still the freak didn't budge. The hell?

"Hey! Commie? Wake up! Ivan!" Alfred yelled and the Russian finally looked up, violet eyes wide and dark, his pupils seemed to be shaking. It sent a shiver down the American's spine and he took a step back. Ivan stared at him with dark clouded eyes and it seemed like a menacing aura was flowing from him. Alfred felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and he swallowed nervously. The hell was going on? "I-Ivan?" He questioned, cursing the stammer in his voice. Why was he afraid of this guy? He was the hero for god's sakes.

Then, Ivan lunged. His bloody hands wrapping around the Americans neck as he pushed him back. The two fell onto the cold tile floor with the Russian on top. Alfred stared, frozen in shock before beginning to thrash violently. He clawed at the hands on his neck but only succeeding in making them tighten. His blue eyes wide and drowning in the distant gaze of the other's dark violet. He chocked and gasped and tried a new tactic. He kneed the taller in the groin. Ivan gasped screwing his eyes shut in pain and loosening his grip. Alfred acted quickly, pushing the other teen so that he was now on top. He glared at the bloody face. The Russian's violet eyes almost seemed to be looking through him.

"Ivan! The hell is wrong with you?" He yelled. His answer was a punch to the face that caught him off guard. He yelped and threw his own punch. Soon the two were rolling around the red stained floor, kicking and punching as crowd gathered about them. Alfred yelped in pain when his foot was kicked and it twisted at a painful anger. In retaliation he hit the others bloody face again.

They were wrenched apart by two teachers looking extremely furious. The pair panted and glared at each other angrily.

"That's it! Bonnefoy, Braginsky to the nurses office. And when you're done the principle!" One of them ordered loudly. Alfred groaned but nodded and pulled away from the teachers grip and started walking with a slight limp toward the entrance of the school. Ivan took a deep breath, trying to even his breathing. He needed to calm down. Obviously he had snapped, he needed to regain some control.

With effort he began to walk steadily, keeping his distance from the American. One of the teachers was following them, making sure they didn't stray from their destination or get into another fight. Alfred had his hands in his pocket refusing to limp though his ankle screamed protest at him with every step. His glasses were also cracked. Damn it. Dad was gonna be pissed. Stupid freak, it was all his fault.

* * *

"Dear lord! What were you two doing? You both look like you've been run over by an 18 wheeler!" The nurse cried out at the sight of the unhappy bloody pair. Alfred flashed her a pained smile, always the charmer.

"We just got into a little scuffle, Nurse Jane." He explained easily, sitting down on one of the beds, holding in the wince. He probably had bruises all over himself. Damn commie.

Ivan stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do. He decided to copy the American, sitting on the next bed. The nurse rolled her eyes at Alfred before setting to work. She went over to Ivan first, his face was much bloodier. Tentatively, she touched his nose and felt the other shudder in pain but make no sound. She frowned.

"Oh dear...I think you might have broken your nose" She murmured and Alfred grinned triumphantly before receiving a scolding glare from the woman.

"Dear, you're going to have to go to the hospital to make sure. I'll go call them up, take this ice pack and keep it on your face ok?" She said soothingly going to the phone, dialing the number. Alfred turned to the Russian, smug smirk in place.

"That's what you get for messing with the hero!" He hissed triumphantly. Ivan stared at him, before doing as he was told and placing the ice pack on his face. Alfred expected him to shiver at the sudden cold temperature like he usually did but Ivan acted as if the cold had no effect on him. Freak.

Ivan began to glance around the nurse's office with interest, this was his first time in the room. It was so different than the one in the orphanage. The room was clean, with sterile white walls and neat comfy beds. There were posters about health on all the walls, varying from the effects of drugs to a healthy diet. At the orphanage it was a dark room filled with sick children on their dying breaths.

"Alright the ambulance is on its way. Ivan was it? I'm going to check for bruises ok? Tell me if anything hurts." She spoke softly and kindly before beginning to jab at his sides and stomach. He winced in surprise and she lifted his shirt slightly, seeing the formation of large bruise on his side. "Yep, that's going to hurt in the morning." She deduced. Alfred didn't hear her, he was still trying to figure out if what he had just seen was real.

When the nurse had lifted Ivan's shirt for the briefest of moments, Alfred got a glimpse of the teen's back. And what he saw scared him. There were jagged scars running down along his skin, there were tons. Some small and healed, others long and still pink. It was frightening. Alfred blinked and quickly looked away. The nurse moved down to Ivan's feet noticing they seemed fine.

"Alright, well you wait until the ambulance comes alright, dear? I'm going to check on Alfred now." She explained sweetly and the Russian nodded. Alfred grinned at the lady but she wasn't amused. She sighed, "Alright Alfred, what have you done today?" She asked dryly.

"Maybe I just wanted to visit you?" Alfred tried with his happy smile. She rolled eyes at him.

"Right, isn't 2nd period Chemistry for you? Are you trying to get out of test again?" She said poking at his sides for bruises. He pouted and shook his head. She looked at his face and gave him an ice pack for his forming black eye. She went further down to his feet and frowned at the sight of his right angle. "Well Alfred, it seems you've twisted your ankle." She announced putting another ice pack over it and watching Alfred shiver at the coldness.

"Alfred, I need you to ice your ankle until the swelling goes down, then put this brace on as tightly as possible. Stay off your feet and when seated keep your ankle elevated all right? I'm calling your father." Alfred groaned, damn it! He was going to have to stay at home again, alone and bored. He wasn't allowed to walk and he was going to die of boredom. Damn commie! He glared at Ivan angrily and the boy merely smiled back.

The nurse left to go to the phone once more. "Damn it! This is all your fault." Alfred accused angrily, crossing his arms with a huff while still trying to ice his eye.

"If I recall, you were the one who broke my nose first." Ivan pointed out with sly smirk. Alfred rolled his eyes and pouted.

"Well yeah...But that was payback! You're the one who went all psycho!" He snapped back. "The hell was that anyway?"

Ivan glanced at his naked hands, he had taken off the bloody gloves to prevent the memories from coming back again. He shrugged and looked over at one of the health posters, learning the dangers of smoking. Alfred scowled at being ignored and focused on his swelled foot instead. The nurse came back looking annoyed, probably having talked to Dad.

"Arthur's coming, and Ivan the ambulance is here alright? So follow me." She said pleasantly and Ivan stood up, following the lady obediently, ignoring the glare he was receiving from the idiot American.

* * *

"Hey Matt! Where's your brother?" Gilbert asked setting down his tray on their lunch table. Matthew sighed. "He got into another fight with Ivan." He answered, annoyed.

"Really? Who won?" Gilbert asked excitedly and received a glare from the younger twin.

"That's not important. All I know is he got sent home because he twisted his ankle pretty badly. And apparently he broke Ivan's nose." He explained, unamused and eating his food idly. Gilbert though grinned.

"So the Freak got what was coming to him! Good for Alfred, and he got another day off the sneaky bastard." He joked lightly before realizing Kiku wasn't at the table either.

"He's with Heracles, doing some project or another for his History class." Matthew answered the unspoken question. The Prussian had no idea how Matthew did that so often. Maybe he was psychic...More likely he had absorbed Gilbert awesomeness and learned the skill because of that.

"So where are you taking me out?" Matthew asked curiously and chuckled as Gilbert gagged on his food and reddened. Gilbert took a gulp of water and looked up into the laughing violet eyes. "Well? Don't you have anything planned?" Matthew continued, teasing the albino.

"Uh..." Shit. He hadn't gotten that far in his plan. Sure he had had all morning to think about it but he had merely basked in the afterglow of the acceptance.

"Alright, how about this Saturday we go to a movie?" Matthew offered, he guessed Papa's constant wisdom over love did have its advantage. Though he could of done better without the explicit examples. He shuddered slightly at the memory.

"Yeah! That be awesome" Gilbert quickly agreed, he was smiling wildly. His heart was all swelled up and he was pretty sure he could fly. He just needed to get his nerve back, he was acting like such a girl! He was a man! More specifically Mattie's man. God, he couldn't wait to brag about this.

"Oh, one more thing Gil." Matthew added sheepishly, a blush crawling over his cheeks. "Can we keep this a s-secret?" The Prussian frowned and tilted his head, confused at the request.

"Its just...Alfreds going to be really angry because he's overprotective and Dad will have a h-heart attack. Worse Papa will be all excited and force me to listen to all his 'talks' and I really don't want to go through that yet." Matthew explained hurriedly. The albino pouted but nodded.

"Fine, we could have a super secret awesome romance!" He decided and grinned at the other, he really did find the blond adorable when he blushed like that. Matthew smiled and tried to will away the red on his cheeks before nodding his agreement.

* * *

"Damn it Alfred! Why do you keep getting hurt? For god sakes you just got out of the hospital three days ago. I'm working and suddenly I receive a call you've gotten hurt again." Arthur ranted angrily as he steered the car around the roads. Alfred kept his frown on as he stared out the window and kept his leg on the dashboard for elevation.

"It wasn't my fault." He defended.

"Of course it wasn't Alfred, its never your fault. Who was it this time?" Arthur mocked cruelly and turned left sharply. He needed some tea to cool his nerves.

"It was the damn commies fault!"

Arthur slammed his hand on the steering wheel. "Again Alfred? And don't call him that! Bloody hell." He slammed the brakes at a red light, the car jerking slightly.

"Well its his fault alright!" Alfred reiterated, crossing his arms angrily.

"And what happened to him?" Arthur asked drily, watching the red light and mentally willing it to change.

Alfred couldn't suppress his grin, "I broke his nose." Arthur's grip on the wheel tightened and he almost missed the green light. He quickly accelerated and gritted his teeth.

"Damn it Alfred! You're going to apologize to him immediately. Don't look so smug!" Arthur ordered as he sped up, seeing the house coming into view.

"I don't want to apologize! He deserved it!" Alfred whined like a three year old. Arthur rolled his eyes and pulled into the drive way.

"Of course he did Alfred. Very heroic too might I add. The poor boys probably a lonely frightened transfer student with no friends. He does nothing to you and you've already made fun of him for his nationality and then broke his nose. Quite the model gentleman I've raised." Arthur snapped, slamming the door closed and fishing out his sewing supplies. He still had work to do, what with being interrupted in order to pick up his son.

Alfred slammed his own door and stomped up the stairs. Or at least he tried before yelping in pain and falling to the ground. Right. His ankle was a swelling mess. Damn it. And why'd his father say it like that? It made him sound like a total jackass, when he was the victim! He held his ankle and hissed. Arthur had run to his side putting down his sewing machine hurriedly when he heard his son cry out.

"Alfred! Are you alright, lad?" He asked, brushing away the blonds hair from his face. A habit he'd always had with the twins that he couldn't get rid of.

"Y-yeah, I kinda forgot about my foot." Alfred mumbled and let his father help him up. Arthur helped his son toward the couch where he set him up and gave him the controller.

"I'll go get an icepack. Do you want anything?" Arthur asked, anger subsided. No matter how angry he could get it always seemed to evaporate when someone he loved got hurt.

"Can I have some Coke? Thanks." Alfred called out with a small smile, he really did like it when his Dad was calm and stuff. Not his usual yelling disappointed self. Arthur came back into the room and set down the Coke on the table by his son's head. He placed the icepack on the injured foot carefully.

"Alfred, can you please try not to get hurt so often?" Arthur sighed and left the room to collect his work that he had left by the door.

Alfred snapped the can open and took a sip of the refreshing beverage. His peace was broken when the phone rang sharply near him. Alfred groaned.

"Can you get it?" Came Arthurs voice through the hall. Alfred sighed and readjust himself before picking up the phone.

"Hello?...TORIS! God its been forever! How was the trip? Did you get me anything?" Alfred asked excitedly into the phone. "You need to visit! I haven't seen you in like a year!...Why am I at home?...Oh! Yeah I got sent early cuz some Russian freak twisted my ankle...You ok? You seem nervous all of sudden...Yeah he's here. I'll talk to you later k?" He cupped his hand over the phone and yelled into the house. "DAD! Its Toris, pick it up!"

He heard loud grumbling and the phone being picked up. He hung up and focused back on the television. Behind him Arthur was leaning against the kitchen counter, holding the phone to his ear.

"Hello Toris! How's the new ward?...I see...Of course the dinner is still on!...Whenever you want...Saturday's fine. How about you come around 6?...Alright then, see you soon. Bye." He hung up and looked over at Alfred.

"Do you have any plans Saturday night?" Arthur asked and Alfred shook his head. "Good, Toris is coming for dinner along with the orphan he adopted."

"Awesome! Haven't seen Tor in ages!" He grinned at the prospect of seeing his good friend. Toris was 7 years his elder and used to live in the neighborhood. Ever since the twins were 6, Toris had been their babysitter. Even when they moved so that they were around half hour walk away he would still come over to watch them. He was the best. The fact that his longtime friend had adopted an orphan slipped his mind. Alfred could be quite oblivious.

* * *

"I'm home." Matthew announced quietly as he entered the house.

"AND THE AWESOME ONE HAS ARRIVED!" Gilbert yelled loudly, his voice shaking the walls. Matthew scolded him for his loud voice only to be hugged tightly. "Its not my fault my awesome is just bursting out of me" He whined burrowing his face in the younger twins back. Mmm...Matt smelled of sweet maple syrup. Matthew blushed and pried himself out of the embrace.

"Gil! Stop it...Its embarrassing." he mumbled.

Gilbert pouted and only received a roll of the eyes. He didn't mind though. His grin was back in place in a few seconds as he bounced around. He felt as light as a feather. Matt had said yes! God he was happy. Matthew smiled at his behavior and quickly looked away.

"Al? Where are you?" Matthew called.

"Family room!" Came the answer.

Gilbert quickly ran over to the living room and it took everything in his power to not tell Alfred he was dating his younger brother. Hell he wanted to scream it to the world. But...Matt wanted it a secret for now before telling his Dad and brother. Alfred was a bit overprotective... So instead he opted to congratulate his future brother in law.

"I heard ya gave the Freak what was coming to him!" he said excitedly, highfiving his friend. Alfred grinned broadly.

"Finally! Some recognition!" He exclaimed as he sat up slightly while trying not to disturb his ankle. "I broke his big fat nose and everything." Alfred bragged with a smirk. Gilbert gave him a thumbs up.

There were loud steps as their father came down the stairs. "Matthew?" Arthur asked looking for his son. The boy waved and Arthur blinked...Had he really been right there? He shook the thought away. "Matthew, do you have any plans for Saturday night?" He asked. Matthew glanced over at Gilbert who was in conversation with his brother. No doubt his twin was retelling the 'heroic' tale.

"Actually Gilbert and I were going to go to the mo-"

"Cancel. Toris and his ward are coming over for dinner." Arthur interrupted and his son frowned.

"But Dad-" He tried to argue when Arthur once more interrupted him.

"Matthew, you hang out with Gilbert all the time, he's right in the living room. You haven't seen Toris in a year. You can cancel a stupid night to the movies."

Matthew bit his lip. _But its our first date!_ He kept the argument inside and sighed. "Can Gil stay for dinner then? He knows Toris too..." He tried hoping his father would say yes.

"I suppose...Ask the frog. He's the one cooking for everyone." Arthur answered absently before going back up the stairs to finish his sewing.

Matthew grinned, of course Papa would say yes! Now to tell Gilbert... "Hey Gil?" He called tentatively. In a flash Gilbert was by his side still grinning widely.

"Yes? You called?" The albino asked eagerly, not able to stop the bounce in his step. Matthew giggled lightly before quickly stopping himself.

"Gil, Toris got back from his year long trip."

"Oh? Cool." Gilbert said, that didn't seem nearly as important as Matthew saying yes.

"Yeah well, Dad invited him over for a formal dinner and I have to be there."

"Ok. So...?" The Prussian pressed, what did this have to do with him?

"On Saturday." Matthew finished and watched as the albino's wide smile fell into a small frown.

"oh". He said simply pulling away. "Thats ok. Its fine. Its totally awesome!"Gilbert quickly said forcing his smile back on his face. Matthew frowned.

"I'm sorry Gil, but you can come to the dinner. Dad said it would be ok." The younger twin continued hoping to lift his crush's mood.

"Yeah. ok. I'll be there! And maybe Friday we could go to the movies?" He asked hopefully, red eyes wide. Damn those puppy dog eyes.

"Of course." Matthew agreed and blushed when the albino kissed him.

"Awesome!"

* * *

And thus it continues  
So this chapters long! To make up for last chapter and because it might take a while to update...  
School starts soon and I've been procrastinating on finishing my summer work... hehe...  
So anyways next chapter Ivan and Alfred get punished!  
Hey! Not like that! You people have dirty minds...*was thinking the same thing...*  
That brings me to another point...This story might go up to M rating...Depends if I get the nerve and am able to write some lemon flavored chapters...I dont know yet...We'll see...  
So I'll see you in the next update~  
Review! or I'll hate you

...

I'm Sorry! Don't worry! I'll still love you!


	8. Chapter 7

Alfred grumbled as he heard his name over the loud speaker along with the freak's. Damn, he thought he had gotten away with sending the other to the hospital. What with having to go home himself he had never been punished for fighting the other. Now they'd have to sit in the stupid principle's office and be forced to apologize. At least he was missing Chem...

He nodded at the secretary who waved at him while speaking into the phone. The American opened the office door and stepped inside. His ankle still hurt him but he could walk on it as long as he wore the brace. He plopped into one of the seats facing the empty desk and sighed. So...The principle wasn't here yet? He grinned mischievously, putting his feet up on the desk and scratching at his brace. Hell, it was itchy wearing the damn thing.

"That is rude, American" Ivan scolded, causing the other student to jump in surprise. "Holy shit you scared me!" Alfred cried and turned to Ivan who was sitting beside him. Before he could say anything else a mocking laugh erupted from inside him.

Ivan had two black eyes along with swollen nose and he looked like a raccoon. Alfred couldn't help but laugh at it, especially since he knew he had caused it.

"Maybe I should break your nose also? Hmm? Along with the rest of the bones in your body?" Ivan asked, lips formed into a tight smile and a dark aura surrounded him. Alfred calmed his boisterous laughter down to a snicker. The door opened and he quickly put his feet back down on the ground.

The elderly principle gave a heavy sigh as he sat in front of the two students and rubbed his balding head.

"Alright, Ivan, Alfred I want us all to have a calm talk and figure out why there is so much tension between you two. We have already had to call an ambulance twice in less than a week." He began the conversation, "Now Alfred, as far as I can tell you are the instigator to these acts?"

"Am not!" Alfred defended vehemently.

"Da, he is. He mocked me for my nationality and did not stop after I asked him to. Then, when I returned to school after my absence he broke my nose before I could say anything." Ivan stated smoothly and Alfred glared at him. So what if that were true? He deserved it anyway.

"But you gave me a concussion then tried to strangle me!" Alfred accused getting up angrily. The principle sighed.

"Merely a form of self defense" Ivan brushed off and Alfred was brimming with anger.

"Self defense my ass you commie freak!" He yelled and this caused Ivan to stand up too, enjoying how he could look down on the American because of his superior height.

"Care to repeat that, American?" Ivan threatened and Alfred couldn't take it anymore.

He was pissed, more than pissed. This Freak comes in, gives him a concussion, strangles him and ruins his ankle and thinks he can get away with it? He was such a violent creep! And that stupid scarf was right there, mocking him and he wanted to shred it into pieces.

"Go to hell commie bastard! And its not freaking winter so take off the damn scarf!" He shrieked and his lunged at it angrily. He pulled at the garment roughly, wrenching it from the others neck. Ivan acted quickly, grasping at the end and tried desperately to take his precious scarf back.

"Give it back! Отдайте это! Дайте это назад Вы идиот! Это порвется! Отпущенный!" _(Give it back! Give it back you idiot! It will tear! Let go!) _The taller teen slipped into Russian in his desperation as they fought like small children over a toy.

"ENOUGH!" The principle yelled angrily, startling the pair. Alfred dropped the scarf and Ivan was quick to bring it close to him, holding it protectively. "Stop acting like four year olds! If you two get into a big fight again I'll have both of you expelled. Do you understand me?" He ordered furiously.

"Yes sir" Alfred mumbled and Ivan repeated the phrase, still cradling the scarf.

"Now apologies to each other!" Alfred didn't dare argue with the angry man, he couldn't get expelled.

"Fine" he mumbled and turned to Ivan with a scowl on his face. "I'm sorry for calling you a commie and breaking your nose." He sighed, not happy at all.

Ivan nodded slowly at the confession before following suit. "I apologize for giving you a concussion, strangling you and hurting your ankle."

"Good now get out of my office and get back to class." The two quickly scurried out of the office and Alfred wanted nothing to do with the damn Russian. Unfortunately, they had Chemistry together and they had only missed ten minutes of class. Damn. Alfred walked silently, glaring at the floor with his hands in his pocket. Ivan stayed a little ways back for some reason but Alfred didn't question it. The silence dragged on as they walked the empty halls.

Alfred hated silence, he could never keep quiet for long. He turned around in order to address the Freak, walking backwards with relative ease. He blinked in surprised as he saw why Ivan was walking so slowly.

The Russian was taking slow steps, his focus on the scarf cradled in his arms. All his concentration was on the garment as he examined it carefully for any sort of tears or loose strands. Alfred bit his lip and he felt a twinge of guilt growing in his stomach. Maybe the scarf was important to him, he did wear it everyday. Shit, what if it was like Mattie's Kumajirou? Now he felt horrible!

"uh...Ivan? Look I'm sorry about the scarf...I didn't know it mean so much to ya..." He mumbled, his cheeks slightly reddening. The hell was he saying? Ivan looked up at him, slightly surprised. His gaze quickly shifted back down at his scarf.

"It is alright" he answered simply, wrapping the scarf back around his neck, instantly feeling more secure. Alfred noticed how one end had a tear.

"You know...My Dad's a tailor...He could probably fix it..." Alfred stated awkwardly. Why the hell was he starting to blush? This was the freak for God sakes! Ivan stared at him before giving his creepy smile.

"Da, thank you" Alfred nodded and looked down at the floor again, still walking backwards. Ivan didnt say anything else and Alfred was trying his best to get rid of the retarded blush he had staining his cheeks.

Suddenly, he felt Ivan's hand close around his shirt pulling him toward him. He yelped in surprise as he was pressed into the other's chest. Stunned, he froze in shock and confusion. What just happened? Once he got his senses back, he pushed at the broad chest right in front of him. "The hell!"

"You were about to smack your head on the wall." Ivan explained, releasing him. "You should be more careful, Alfred." Alfred reddened once more in embarrassment and spun around to find the wall _right there_. Ivan moved past him, toward the door to their class and walked in. Alfred stared after him and he realized that had been the first time Ivan had used his name. Wait, why the hell would he care about that? He shook his head and walked into the room.

All his classmates were paired off in the back of the room. Crap, they had a lab today.

"Alfred, Ivan you'll have to pair off for the Flame Test Lab. You better hurry too, if you don't finish you have to come during your lunch." Their teacher ordered. Alfred groaned, just his luck to be paired with the Freak. He grumbled to himself before padding over to the drawer and taking his goggles out. He wrestled with them, it was hard putting them on while he wore his glasses. Ivan watched him silently.

"Well? Come on! Put your goggles on already." Alfred said annoyed, he wanted to get this done so he could eat his lunch in peace. Ivan blinked at him and tilted his head. Shit...He must have never done a lab before... Alfred groaned, this was gonna take a lot longer.

"Ok, go ask the teacher for some goggles, write your name on them with a sharpie." He sighed, Ivan quickly obeyed and walked over to the teacher. Alfred got them a lab table in the back after grabbing two lab packets from the teacher's desk. He pulled out from another drawer a lighter and plugged in the Bunsen burner. Ivan was soon by his side again.

"Alright so you have to wear the goggles or else you get ten points off. Some safety rule or something. Anyway here's your lab packet, read over the directions while a light this thing." Alfred instructed, pushing the paper over to the Russian. He turned the gas knob slowly and flicked the lighter on. The Bunsen caught quickly and he pulled away, tweaking it so the flame wasn't too high. Ivan stared at it in childlike awe.

"Ok..." Alfred scanned through the directions and grinned. This lab actually seemed pretty cool, just had to burn a bunch of sticks and see what color they were, then identify them. The pyromaniac within him was bouncing around in excitement. He left the table to get the sticks along with two bowls filled each with an unknown powder.

"So this is what we have to do." He demonstrated, taking a stick and dipping it in a beaker of water on the table. He placed the stick in the bowl marked "Substance #1" and pulled it out, showing how it was now covered with the white powder. "Now for the fun part." He grinned as he placed the stick above the flame and watched as it caught fire. It bloomed a beautiful violet and Alfred watched the bright flame in awe. He glanced back at his partner and was struck by how much the flame looked like Ivan's eyes. He had never noticed how violet they were..

"Alfred, the flame." Ivan warned and Alfred snapped his gaze back on the burning stick. He blew it out, his cheeks dusted pink.

"Yeah, so you do the next one. Oh and write down on the observations page the color. I'll go get the other substances...Lets try and finish this quick." He mumbled quickly, escaping the awkward situation.

Ivan tilted his head at the American's behavior. He was so odd. Why had he been staring at him for so long...? Ivan shrugged and dipped the stick in the water coating it in the second powder. It flamed a bright yellow, reminding him of the painted sunflower in his room. It was a pretty color. Alfred came back with a few more bowls and Ivan blew out the flickering golden flame. The yellow flame also resembled Alfred's hair...

"Yellow? 'k write it down" Alfred said, jotting down the color. The pair worked efficiently, going through the 11 substances easily. When they were finished Alfred turned off the Bunsen burner.

"Now what?" Ivan asked, his answer was the loud ring of the bell. Alfred cursed. "We have to identify these...Damn. Okay I'll grab a textbook and at lunch we can do it quick." He sighed, Ivan nodded before leaving to go off to his next class. Alfred signed out a textbook, stuffing it in his backpack before leaving the room. Walking through the halls to his next class, he realized what had just happened.

Ivan and him had gone from fighting over a scarf to working together easily. It was so...weird. And now he had to sit with him at lunch. Ugg, this was just so awkward! Maybe he should punch him...No. He could not get expelled, his Dad would flip. He chewed at his bottom lip and walked into his next class.

* * *

Matthew and Gilbert watched completely in shock. Their cafeteria food practically untouched as they stared at the scene before them. Alfred and Ivan working together, calmly and efficiently. Only yesterday were they beating each other to a bloody pulp. Matthew found the transformation quite unnerving.

The pair working ignored them as they shared the textbook between them. They pointed at different chemicals, working together in order to write the formulas.

"I never thought I'd see the day..." Gilbert said in awe.

"The weirdest thing is I've never seen Al try so hard on an assignment... Gilbert, I'm scared..." Matthew responded, taking nibble of his plain sandwich.

"Quick am I still awesome?" Gilbert asked suddenly and Matthew raised a brow. "Yes, you're still awesome."

"Okay, so it isn't the apocalypse!" Gilbert declared with a grin. It would suck if the world was ending. He and Matt hadn't even gone out on their first official date!

Matthew rolled his eyes but couldn't stop the smile from appearing on his face.

"Done! Finally!" Alfred exclaimed happily, snapping the textbook shut. He grinned in triumph before taking a bite of his food. "Mkay, so we have to turn this in before lunch ends." Alfred said munching happily on the food. Ivan twitched at the foul manners and then grabbed the others hand. Alfred froze and stared at him before realizing the Russian was just trying to look at his watch.

"We have ten minutes, Alfred." Ivan said and Alfred cursed, stuffing the rest of his food into his mouth before grabbing the textbook.

"Alright! Off we go! See ya Mattie, Gil." Alfred waved goodbye as he ran out of the cafeteria, Ivan following at a much more leisurely pace.

"How long will the peace last?" Matthew wondered out loud, taking a bite of his sandwich pensively.

"I give em til the end of the day. They'll probably fight over something dumb by then." Gilbert announced his prediction, his awesome prediction. "Hey Mattie, you want to come over to my place tonight? Feli's coming over which means a delicious pasta dinner!" Gilbert asked excitedly. Matthew smiled and pretended to think about it in order to watch the other squirm impatiently.

"I guess I could..." He mused with a playful smirk, not expecting the suffocating hug he received. When had Gilbert gone to his side of the table?.

"You're the best Matt!" The albino cried, giving him a couple pecks on the lips. He couldn't stop himself when it made the other blush heavily. "Gil! Stop it!" Matthew whined embarrassed as he pushed the Prussian off of him. Gilbert finally acquiesced, sitting down next to him.

"I cant help myself Matt! Your awesomeness is just so kissable." Matthew reddened even more at the comment. Why did Gilbert have to be so embarrassing?

* * *

Alfred exited the chemistry room right when the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. He groaned, knowing now he had to hurry to the other side of the building to get to his next class. Might as well be the other side of the world. Grumbling to himself he started to walk as fast as he could without looking retarded. Fuck it. He slowed down, no longer caring if he was a few minutes late.

"We will be late if we do not hurry." Came Ivan's voice beside him. Alfred almost jumped out of his skin. Shit! Had he been there the whole time? He thought he'd left him in the chem room!

"Why are you following me?" Alfred hissed, hurrying his step, not in order to get to class on time but to get away from the creep.

"We have U.S. History together, we even sit next to each other. How cruel of you to have forgotten." Ivan answered childishly though with a certain menacing undertone. Alfred blinked before realizing his mistake and he pouted. He wanted to get away from the Russian but life seemed to despise him at the moment.

"So we should hurry, da?" Ivan reiterated, smiling creepily as they walked the halls. Alfred glared at him.

"Maybe I don't want to get there on time. Leave me alone alright? We're probably getting that stupid quiz back anyway." He hated getting grades, it was always another excuse for Dad to yell about how much of a disappointment he was. Ivan tilted his head in confusion.

"It is not good to be late for class." Ivan commented aloud as his smile morphed into a smirk. "If Alfred does not want to arrive on time maybe I should carry him?" Ivan mused outloud and Alfred stopped brows furrowed.

"You're not serious right?"

There was dangerous glint in Ivan's violet eyes as he moved closer to him and Alfred didnt want to wait to see if the other would do as he said. He did NOT want to be carried to his class like some girl by this freak. That would be way to embarassing. So he ran, running as fast as he could. Speeding through the halls and expertly manuvering through the throngs of students milling about. He chanced a glance behind him to see that Ivan was right at his heels, moving fast for someone as big as him. Alfred ran harder.

He skidded to a halt at the door and flung it open, panting harshly. The teacher blinked at him curiously as he stumbled inside, followed by a smiling Russian. The bell rang as Alfred collapsed into his seat, Ivan sitting to his left. The American glared at him angrily and Ivan merely smiled back. He even had the nerve to giggle. Damn him.

"I hate you." Alfred hissed before slipping his hands into his bag to pull out his binder. The comment only made Ivan giggle harder until he finally he calmed himself. The teacher was yaking about the industrial revolution or something but Alfred was too tired and angry to pay much attention. Instead he doodled. First it was a superhero saving some chick. Then it was the superhero beating up the villain. Soon it was just him beating up Ivan. They were only stick figures though, Ivan's had a scarf in order to differentiate himself. He sneaked a glance at the other to find him listening carefully to the teacher and taking notes. So was Ivan book smart? Was he nerd? Alfred pondered these questions before he heard the teacher say the words he dreaded.

"Class, I'm handing back the quizzes from last week." The teacher announced pulling out a packet of papers. Alfred slumped in his seat, as the teacher gave them out alphabetically. Why did his last name have to be Bonnefoy? Why not Jones or Williams? Hell, his father's name Kirkland would have been better. But no, stupid Papa had to have Bonnefoy as his last name.

"Alfred." The woman addressed, placing the paper on his desk. "Please try harder." She sighed, her tone weary and defeated. He frowned and ignored her, instead turning the paper over to learn his grade. 11 out of 20. Could have been better, definitely could have been worse. He shrugged, it wasnt the worst grade he'd ever gotten and hopefully Dad wouldn't explode over some quiz grade. His ears perked when the teacher spoke again.

"Ivan" She handed the Russian his test before whispering to him. "You did well for someone who had only been here a few days into the lesson. If you have any questions about English you can ask me alright?" She said helpfully, before walking away to the next person. Alfred blinked, did Ivan have trouble writing English? Well he did come from another country. He wondered what the Freak had gotten... Sneakily, he tried to lean over for the pencil he 'dropped' in order to catch a glance at the commie's grade.

"I receive a 10. 5, Alfred. If you are so curious about my grades you only need to ask. You are horrible at spying." Ivan stated, looking over at the guilty American who was now spluttering about his pencil. Alfred sighed before grinning evily.

"Heh, I beat ya." He announced happily. Ivan raised a brow and looked to see the other's grade.

"Da, but you were here for the entirety of the lesson." He pointed out.

"I still beat ya. Just accept that I'm smarter than you." Alfred continued, his smirk growing ever larger, along with his ego.

"Nyet, you are not smarter than I. Luckier maybe. This will not happen again."

"Oh really? I bet you the next test we have I'll get a higher grade than you." Alfred taunted mischeviously.

"Fine, but I already have an advantage dear Alfred." Ivan said, smirking darkly. He held up his careful notes. "There is a test next week and what we discussed today will be most definitely on it. You should know this of course if you had been paying attention." His voice lowered to a menacing whisper and he pointed at the other's notebook, filled with stick figures. "But instead, little Alfred was too focused on drawing me."

Alfred bristled, his cheeks heating up at what the other said. Man, he wanted to punch him right in the swollen nose, make his eyes even darker. But he couldn't, couldn't afford to get in trouble again. Instead, he leaned away so he was not tempted so much.

"We'll see Ivan." He hissed in what he hoped sounded as menacing as the other's dark whisper.

The bell rang and Alfred hurried out of the room. No more classes with Ivan for the day, he was free. Freedom. How he loved it. Hopefully Mattie would let him see his U.S. History notes and help him out so he could show the damn commie he wasnt an idiot. He'd show 'em.

* * *

"Alfred, you never care about taking notes. Why do you need mine all of a sudden?" Matthew asked still quite bewildered. Alfred pouted before answering the question.

"Because!" he whined. Matthew raised a brow, his way of saying "If you dont tell me whats going on you're not getting anything and I will never make you pancakes ever again." Alfred groaned, curse Mattie and his amazing pancakes. His twin always won the argument when their existence was put into jeapordy.

"Fine, I bet Ivan I could get a better grade than him on the next test! So please can I use your notes!" Alfred explained, hands clasped together as if in prayer. Matthew couldnt help but laugh at his brothers predicament.

"Wow Al, why would you bet something like that?" He teased but stopped when he saw the genuine hurt in his brother's eyes. Alfred had always been sensitive about his low grades, usually ending with him crying quietly to himself in his room after one of Arthur's nastier rants about them. Matthew felt guilty about teasing him for it.

"Al I didn't mean it. Look don't worry, I'll help you ok? If you have any questions just ask me." He said quickly, fumbling with his backpack to pull out his own neat detailed notes. Alfred smiled and hugged his brother with a thank you.

"So can you teach me tonight?" Alfred asked hopefully, glancing over the notes. Matthew frowned slightly.

"Sorry Al, Gil invited me over for dinner. Maybe tomorrow?" He stated and hated how his brother's eager face fell.

"Nah, it's ok. Don't worry about it. I'll just read over the notes and ask you some questions when you get back." he said with a forced smile. He knew it was selfish to expect Mattie to always say yes to his requests. Matthew gave him a reassuring smile.

"It'll be fine Al. I'll have you completely prepared for next weeks test! You'll beat him by at least 10 points." Matthew encouraged. Relief pooled inside him when he saw his cheerful brother's usual grin appear on his face. Feeding the ego always brought him back. Unless it was something really bad.

"You're right. I'll totally beat the Freak" Alfred declared determinedly. This was war.

* * *

Sorry for the wait, this chapter was being a bitch and I had to work on homework and other icky things...  
Hopefully next chapter will be up soon...Only time will tell...  
Anyway next chapter we have Gilbert and Matthew's first date! Yay. And Papa Francis, he needs to be in this fic more.  
I'm also EXTREMELY excited about the chapter after the next, in fact it's already written... I titled it 'The Epic dinner tale of perverted awesomeness'  
The dinner being Saturday when Toris and his orphan are coming over for dinner. Oh hon hon hon~  
Yes you should be excited for it. But you'll just have to wait~  
Anyway, I don't speak Russian so forgive me if that's completely wrong.  
I shall see you in the next update

Oh and Review!...Please? I love you! Isn't that enough? What do you want from me? (other than the next chapter -.-; )


	9. Chapter 8

Alfred put his head on his desk and groaned loudly. Now he remembered why he had stopped trying, studying was hard as hell. Stupid commie and his stupid bet. He heard his brother sigh next to him and he turned his head to face him.

"Come on, A.l"Matthew encouraged, eyes always darting to the clock to asses the time he had left. Today was Friday and Gilbert would be here soon for their first date and he still had to change shirts and fix his hair and his brother was delaying him and gah! He needed to calm down.

"Mattie! Its too complicated and boring." Alfred whined, trying to repress the urge to rip up his textbook and burn it.

"Al, don't you want to beat Ivan? Just finish reading this section and call it a night. I can help you some more tomorrow before the dinner." He reassured, he was running out of time.

"Fine... Where are you going tonight that's so important?" Alfred asked with a raised eyebrow. He was annoyed that something was more important than him. He was his brother! He was twin no less! Why did Matthew start blushing a little?

"It's nothing! We're just going to the uh movies and stuff..." Matthew answered quickly. Oh please god don't let his brother ask to join them, please please ple-

"Cool. Can I tag along? I need a break from this" He sighed, closing his textbook and looking up at his brother.

"No!... I mean you can't because...Because you have to read this section!" Matthew quickly said, opening the book once more.

Alfred stared at him brows furrowed. "Huh? I thought you said I should call it a night?"

"Yes! But f-first you have to finish the section and uh... Answer the three questions! Yeah..." Matthew fumbled with his words and Alfred stared at him. "Oh uh look at the time! I have to go uh get ready...so uh yeah! Study bro! Study!" And he ran out of the room as quickly as possible. Alfred continued to stare at the door in confusion. What was up with him? He shrugged it off and slumped back toward the stupid book. Honestly, he could care less about the industrial revolution. Why did they even call it a revolution? There weren't any guns or battles like the awesome one of independence!

Matthew took a calming breath and put on one of his nicer red shirts on before walking downstairs to wait for Gilbert. He sat down on one of the stools by the counter and looked at the clock. He still had seven minutes...

His father suddenly sprang up on the other side of the counter and Matthew almost jumped out of his skin with a -manly- squeal of surprise. "P-Papa!" He greeted in shock and stared at the Frenchman who smile at him pleasantly.

"Matthieu, I was just reorganizing the drawers." He explained himself quickly. He leaned on the counter, inspecting his son's attire with a smirk. "You are dressed so nicely Matthieu! You have plans pour la nuit, mon petit?" _(for the night, my little one)_

Matthew looked at the counter as he reddened slightly. "I'm just going to the movies with a friend..." He murmured and didn't catch the knowing smirk on his fathers face.

"Oh really? By any chance is it the handsome albino?" Francis pressed, trying to sound innocently curious. He got his answer through the darkening of his sons blush. "So is this a date? Comme mon petit bebe a grandit!" _(How my little baby has grown up!)_ He exclaimed happily enjoying how Matthew's red face shot up.

"We're just hanging out Papa! Its nothing like that!" He denied, god this was so embarrassing. If Papa realized that they were starting to date then the awkward talks would never end! And then he'd tell Dad and he'd be yelled at and Alfred would find out and try and kill Gilbert and he needed to calm down.

"Of course Matthieu, but why is Alfred not going with you?" Francis asked and Matthew looked up.

"He has to study." He answered easily and Francis couldn't help but chuckle.

"Alfred studying? On a Friday? Mon cher, if you are going to lie at least make it believable."

Matthew frowned, "I'm serious! He_ is_ studying and that's why hes not going." He insisted. Why couldn't Gilbert get here already so he could leave this conversation?  
Francis raised a brow, he still didn't quite believe it.

"Well, best be off. Your boyfriend has been standing nervously at the door for the past five minutes. Bon chance!" Matthew whirled around to see Gilbert through the window standing there staring at his watch, hand up ready to knock. He left the counter without a word to his father and made his way to the door, opening it much to the albino's surprise.

"Matt! Hey! How ar- uh...Lets go!" Gilbert said nervously, grabbing the others hand and dragging him to his car. Matthew blinked at the treatment as he was all but shoved into the passenger seat.

"Whats going on?" He asked and Gilbert pointed to his house as he buckled in. The twin looked up to see his Papa...making very lewd gestures with his hips. Matthew groaned, shielding his face with his hands as Gilbert put the car in drive and they made their escape. Francis chuckled at the reactions he received and made sure to continue until they were out of sight.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Francis turned surprised to see a horrified Englishman and he smirked at him.

"Hmm? Were you enjoying the show?" He asked to which he received a flustered angry 'no'. Arthur looked way to delectable all red and bothered. Change of plans for tonight. Le sex now instead of later. He strided over to the Brit, wrapping his arms around him tightly. The other responded by trying to thrash out of the grip angrily, spewing out profanities.

"Francis! Let go of me!" Arthur ordered, as he pushed at the others chest to no avail. Whenever 'intimate' actions were in question it seemed the Frenchman's strength improved considerably. Arthur remember how his husband would always cry when he hit him or kicked but the minute he was being kidnapped to the bedroom nothing could stop him. The Englishman turned around so his back was pressed to the others chest in order to get a grip on something. Francis made a 'tsk' noise before beginning to drag the thrashing blond up the stairs. Arthur started fighting harder, hands gripping the railing every chance he could in order to stop the mad man.

"NO! Francis stop! You horny bastard! I don't want to!" He yelled as he was tugged up the stairs, grip slipping from the railings before attaching himself to the banister desperately.

"Mais Arthur! I promise you will enjoy it! You always do." Francis cooed, tugging harder. They were halfway up the stairs. He could see their bedroom door!

Alfred opened his own door, annoyed by the racket to see what was going on. He blinked at the sight of Dad clinging to the banister in absolute desperation as Papa dragged him by the waist up the stairs. He groaned, knowing where this whole scene would lead to. Arthur heard the noise, head spinning back to see Alfred slamming his door shut.

"Alfred! Alfred help me! Get the bloody Frenchman off me!" He yelled, only to be met with blaring music from his son's room. Arthur cursed under his breath and didn't expect the hard tug from his captor. His grip slightly loosened and Francis was able pull him and carry him in an easier way. Fireman style. Not the most romantic but it would get the job done.

Arthur, face beat red, pounded at the others back angrily as he was carried to their bedroom. He was dumped onto the bed and heard the door lock with a click. Blast all, stupid bloody Frenchman and his constant libido. He sat on the bed scowl in place, arms crossed and convinced he would not enjoy this in the least.

Francis sat next to him, leaning over to kiss the scowl away. He received no response and pouted. "You should smile more often Mon cher, you have such a beautiful smile." He murmured, pushing the blond gently so he was lying on the bed. Arthur glared at him with his bright red cheeks and Francis couldn't help but chuckle. He could be so adorable sometimes!

He dipped his head down kissing the others lips which still wouldn't respond back. Best to fight dirty. His hand slipped down lower molesting the others growing erection and receiving a gasp. The Frenchman smirked into the kiss, his tongue invading the other's mouth. Finally Arthur reacted, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him closer. Francis inwardly grinned as his mind formulated what they would be doing tonight...

* * *

Gilbert watched the road as he drove to the movies, trying to remember exactly what Feli had told him. Matthew sat there, a blush on his face and didn't say anything. He was probably still embarrassed about his father...

_"Gilly is going on his first date! How exciting!" Feliciano exclaimed, hugging the teenager happily. "So what are you going to wear?" The red head continued, looking at the boy expectantly.  
_

_"Uh...Just this" Gilbert answered, motioning to his pair of faded blue jeans and dark blue tee._

_ Feliciano frowned. "Nope. Come on we still have time!" The Italian insisted grabbing the other's wrist and dragging him up the stairs to his room. He released the teen and started digging through his closet. Gilbert stared at the bubbly man as clothes were rejected and thrown back onto the floor. West would definitely have a fit when he saw what a mess his little Italian was making.\_

_"Ah hah~!" Feliciano cheered. He turned around and shoved the clothing into the albino's arms before pushing him into the bathroom to change. The Italian hummed a cheery tune while he waited for the Prussian to finish. The door opened and Gilbert stepped out._

_"Magnifico! You look so handsome Gilly!" He cried out, clapping his hands happily as he bounced around. Gilbert tilted his head. He did? Its not like the clothes were much different than before. Just black skinny jeans and a tight black shirt with a white Prussian eagle on it. Then again, he always did look awesome... He gave the Italian a cocky grin._

_"Okay now your hair." The red head said, hands reaching out in order to try and flatten the hair down so it looked nicer. He stepped back and frowned. Maybe if he slicked it back like Ludwig? Ludwig looked so handsome like that... The Italian shook the train of thought away and pushed the white hair back. No...Gilbert looked quite odd with his hair styled that way. Red eyes looked up at him expectantly._

_"Ve..." Feliciano mused as he looked at the teenager. He threaded his fingers in the light hair before mussing it up into a mess. He stepped back and smiled, messy wild hair seemed to suit Gilbert.  
"There." He finished stepping back and admiring his work. "Now where are you taking the cutie? You should take him to an Italian restaurant! Order pasta and eat it together. Ve! It's so romantic~"_

_"Actually, we're going to the movies and then I thought maybe ice cream..." Gilbert answered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously._

_"Ooh! That's good! Ve~ Are you going to see a scary movie? I remember Ludwig took me to a scary movie and he had to hold me through the whole thing. He was so brave!" Feliciano recounted with a bright smile. Gilbert kind of liked the idea of having Matt clinging to him for two hours... Definitely should go see a scary movie._

_"And ice cream is so cute! Oh I'm so happy for you Gilly!" The bubbly Italian exclaimed hugging the other again. Gilbert laughed at the treatment and hugged back briefly before pulling away. _

_ "I better get going. Thanks Feli!" He said as he ran down the stairs eagerly._

_ "Be charming Gilly! And nice! And don't go to fast!" The Italian called after him, only stopping when he heard the door shut. He smiled, remembering his first date with Ludwig. He hoped Gilbert would have a good time._

Gilbert parked the car with relative ease and jumped out. He ran over and opened Matthew's door for him.

The twin raised a brow, "I can open my own door, Gil." He stated but with a small smile. Gilbert merely grinned at him nervously.

"Well I'm just trying to be an awesome boyfriend." He explained before pausing. "I...I am your boyfriend now right?" He asked apprehensively.

Matthew smiled at him warmly then kissed him briefly. "Yes you're my boyfriend" he assured and felt his heart twitch at the relief flooding out of the albino as a giant grin appeared on his face.

"Awesome!" The albino exclaimed, grabbing his hand and running to the theater excitedly. Matthew giggled lightly and tried to keep up.

They entered the movie theater and looked up at the list of films playing. "So what should we watch?" Matthew asked, looking to Gilbert.

"How about The Silence Deafens?" From the poster that movie looked scary... Maybe Matt would jump into his lap from fright... He smile at the thought.  
Matthew blinked and frowned at the movie pick. Odd... He'd thought Gilbert would of gone with one of the funny action movies... Oh well, he didn't really mind either way.

"Okay, that's fine. You buy the tickets and I'll go get some popcorn." he acquiesced, leaving the albino's side. It was when he was gone that Gilbert noticed they had held hands the entire time. Now his hand felt all cold and empty. He pouted before realizing how stupid he was acting. They'd be sitting together for two hours after this!

He got the tickets and found Matthew waiting with the popcorn. The pair made their way to the appropriate room and sat down together near the center. Gilbert waited in anticipation for the movie to begin, while Matthew tried to contain a laugh. He had just thought of how Alfred would react to such a movie. He would start screaming and clinging and crying. It was quite amusing to watch. He should probably watch a movie with him this Sunday...  
His thoughts were interrupted as the lights darkened and the film began.

* * *

"Shut up Mattie!" Gilbert whined, crossing his arms as they left the movie theater, his face red from embarrassment. Matthew followed behind laughing, clutching his stomach and everything.

"I'm sorry Gil! I never knew you could scream that high." He stated between laughs and Gilbert huffed. "And you got some air when the murderer came out with the chainsaw!" Matthew continued, wiping at his eyes. Okay revised plan for Sunday, have both Gil and Al watch a scary movie. Gilbert frowned and got into the car, slamming the door shut. He recrossed his arms and glared at the steering wheel as Matthew got into the passenger seat, his loud laugh now a small giggle.

"Gil~ Don't be mad at me. The scary movie was your idea." He said with a playful smile.

"Yeah but YOU were the one who was suppose to be scared and jump into my lap and cling to me." He explained angrily.

"Was that your plan?~" Matthew asked with a raised brow. So that's why he didn't choose the action movie. How cute...

"Yeah and it was an awesome plan and you ruined it." Gilbert stated childishly as he put the car into reverse to back out of the space.

"Movies don't scare me Gil, they're too predictable." Matthew said, wondering where they were going now. Gilbert pouted, his awesome plan completely ruined. He almost wasn't in the mood for ice cream but maybe he could redeem himself with it. Matthew watched him, the pout looked cute on his pale face. He hoped the albino wasn't actually mad at him...

Gilbert parked the car, the ice cream parlor wasn't that far from the theater, and stepped out wordlessly. Matthew sighed at the treatment he received and stepped out, Gilbert didn't open the door for him this time. He looked up to see the quaint little ice cream shop. How cute, Gil had taken him out for ice cream.

The albino stood, pout still in place, hands in his pockets and glared at the ground. He stiffened when arms wrapped around his neck. He looked up into a pair of violet blue eyes and blinked in confusion before warm lips met his. His anger faded and he kissed back eagerly, wrapping his own arms around the others slender waist. Matthew smiled into the kiss before pulling away while still staying in the warm embrace.

"I'm sorry if I ruined your awesome plan" He apologized with a teasing smile.

"Its okay. This is way awesomer" Gilbert replied capturing the lips once more. The kiss was nice, slow, sweet and warm. Matthew could feel his heart filling with warmth and reluctantly he pulled away completely. Gilbert pouted again but grinned once the blond took his hand and led him into the ice cream parlor.

They bought their ice cream and sat at one of the tables. Matthew licked away at his strawberry treat happily. He absolutely loved ice cream. Gilbert lapped at his chocolate lovers cone at a slower pace. The twin looked up at his date to see that the albino had gotten ice cream on his nose. He wasn't sure how he had achieved that. The blond suddenly had the urge to lick it off... Papa was influencing him way too much... But he still wanted to lick it off...What to do...

Deep in thought, Matthew had slowed down his eating and was staring at the albino. Gilbert had paused in his eating noticing the attention. He looked at Matthew and suddenly couldn't look away.

Matthew was licking his ice cream slowly, almost sensually as he gazed at Gilbert. His pink tongue lapping up the treat as his violet eyes bore into him. The albino suddenly found his mouth dry and he swallowed painfully, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Shit, why had he worn tight pants? He cursed Feli internally. He jumped slightly when Matthew leaned forward, his pink tongue darting out to lap at his nose. The Prussian's pale face soon bloomed bright red and he stared at the twin in shock.

Matthew's cheeks dusted pink and he smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, you had some ice cream there and its been bothering me..." He explained, embarrassed. Gilbert only returned to eating his ice cream hurriedly, unable to look the other in the eye. Matthew tilted his head at the behavior, he hoped he hadn't messed up... Curse Papa and his incessant lessons on love.

Gilbert finished his ice cream quickly and tried to think of the most un-sexiest thing in existence. He did not want to stand up until his slight 'problem' was gone. Matthew wondered why his boyfriend was acting so strangely...Boyfriend... He smiled at the thought as he finished up his strawberry treat. 

_Hairy girls, hairy girls, hairy girls _Gilbert chanted inside his mind desperately. He watched as Matthew got up, licking his fingers and it didn't help.

"Shall we?" Matthew asked, holding out his hand to the fidgety albino. He wondered what was wrong with him... Maybe he got a brain freeze from eating his ice cream so fast. Gilbert hesitantly took the offered hand and stood up. Hopefully, it wasn't as bad as he imagined it to be and a strategically place hand could cover him until they got in his car. Yeah... It could work.

So, once hand in hand, he stormed out of the place as fast as he could while dragging a confused blond with him. He let go so he could get into his seat and sit down. Phew, crisis averted.  
Matthew stood in front of the car and stared at Gilbert as if he were a mad man. What the hell was that about? It was as if the albino had been running from the law. He received only a wave to get in the car and obeyed slowly. He sat down and was about to ask why he was acting so weirdly when he was kissed briefly.

"Well? Did you have fun?" Gilbert quickly asked, trying to distract his date from asking questions. Matthew blinked a few times before nodding quickly.

"Of course Gil! Thank you for taking me out." He said with a happy pleasant smile, his face transforming into a light shade of pink. Gilbert grinned, yep he was definitely awesome if that was the reaction Matt got from going out with him.

"Awesome." He said happily, pulling away from the parlor.

"Oh, and remember tomorrow's the dinner, come a bit before six."

"Ja, I know. Don't worry about it! The awesome me will be there." He answered but Matthew couldn't help but feel like something bad was going to happen tomorrow...

"You better behave" He added quickly and witnessed the evil little grin on his boyfriends face.

"Don't I always?"

Yep, definitely a very bad feeling.  


* * *

Fast update is fast...  
I hope this chapter's ok... I felt kinda rushed writing it... I had to get it out because I probably wont be able to update a again until later next week... And everyone kept sending me such nice reviews that I wanted to give you this...  
You're all so spoiled!...I still love you  
So you'll just have to wait for the dinner party~  
And you know how before I said that we will be finding out how Daddy *coughmommycough* Arthur and Papa Francis fell in love and got the twins? Well you'll find out that too!  
Isn't it wonderful?  
And I know Ivan wasn't in this chapter *le gasp* but he will be in the next so don't worry. Instead PruCan shippers rejoice along with the perverted FRUK lovers *coughmecough*  
So I shall see you in the next update

Review and you will have my undying love~...Not in a creepy way...Actually yes in a creepy way. But that just means I love you more! ;)


	10. Chapter 9

Toris let out a shaky breath as he drove the near empty streets. Ivan sat beside him, eerie smile in place as he watched the world pass by through his window. Ivan had at first refused to go to the dinner party, nervous he might do something wrong or hurt someone. That is until the brunette revealed that it was at Alfred's home. The Russian then became quite excited about the prospect of seeing the American's home.

Ivan was very interested in the rude obnoxious American. He was the only person, other than Toris, to dare speak to him. He even fought back, as his slowly fading black eyes showed. The boy was so different than anyone he had met, fiery, stubborn and so vibrant. He wanted to know more about him and visiting his home could provide more clues.

Most interesting of all, the idiot didn't fear him. Everyone was scared of him, after the incident with Mr. Winter all the residents and staff at the orphanage were terrified of him. The American school was no different, students stayed clear of him. Even Toris was shaky around him, always second guessing the words he said to him. Ivan didn't mind the treatment though, the less people interacted with him the better. All others ever brought him was suffering.

Except Alfred. Alfred wasn't afraid, even after he beat his head into a table. He still pestered him even after he tried to strangle his life away. It was so very strange and intriguing. He wanted to know more about the American, he needed to know more. There was just something about the lively idiot that attracted the Russian to him.

Saying Toris was nervous about the evening would be the understatement of the year. He was absolutely terrified of what would happen. He had yet to tell the Bonnefoy family that the boy terrorizing their son was the orphan he adopted from Russia. He had wanted to tell them over the phone but he had never gotten the nerve. He hoped they didn't kick him out at the sight of his ward.

He was especially afraid of Alfred's reaction. He had known Alfred for a long time and knew the way he could overreact, sometimes in a violent way. He didn't want to lose the friendship he had with the nice family and so tonight weighed down on him heavily. How was he going to explain all this to them?

With mounting dread he parked the car and stepped out onto the driveway. Ivan followed with new found apprehension. He had never been to a formal dinner before. What if he did something wrong? He found he didn't want to make a bad impression on Alfred's parents. He didn't know why he felt that way so suddenly. He had probably already made a bad impression by sending the American to the hospital. He pouted at the realization before snapping back to reality as Toris beckoned to him to enter.

* * *

The doorbell sounded, echoing throughout the bustling home. Francis ignored it, completely engrossed in finishing his task of cooking the dinner. Matthew working beside him pleasantly while Gilbert chatted away and helped set the table. He had arrived early in order to seem like an awesome boyfriend. He even got rewarded with a kiss when no one was looking. Matthew had been amazed to see Gilbert actually behaving bu,t for some reason, he couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom.

Upstairs, Alfred and Arthur were battling over the teen's present attire of a t-shirt and black jeans. ("Alfred! This is a formal dinner and I will not have my son presented as a slob!" "Dad I dont want to wear such stupid stuffy clothing! Its uncomfortable!") Finally, they reached a compromise when Alfred agreed to wear the stupid red button down shirt. Crisis averted, Arthur stormed down the steps as the bell rang for a second time.

"Coming!" He called, striding quickly toward the door before pulling it open with a polite smile. "Good evening Toris! Thank you for coming." He greeted, exchanging handshakes with the brunette.

"Th-Thank you for inviting us." Toris replied nervously and stepped inside admiring the house even though he knew it well. It hadn't changed much over the years. He smiled as memories of watching over the two boys came back to him.

"Its nothing Toris, now where's that new charge of yours? And don't forget you must tell me all about your trip to Eastern Europe." Arthur said, ushering him into the house and taking his jacket. Toris smiled, following his host but paused. He turned back to the door and beckoned at his charge to come in.

"Alfred! Get down here!" Arthur yelled up the stairs and heard his son's footsteps thumping around.

"Ivan, time to come inside." Toris murmured softly and the Russian finally stepped into the loud house glancing around the (in his mind) luxurious home. He still wasn't used to such extravagance and felt uncomfortable.

Alfred finally reached the bottom steps and looked up to lock eyes with a familiar pair of violet ones. His blue eyes widened and he gripped banister tightly.

"Oh hell no!" He hissed angrily his eyes now narrowed. Ivan giggled, tonight would definitely be interesting.

"Good to see you too, Alfred."

"Alfred! Mind your manners!" Arthur scolded angrily, not believing how rude his son was being. Hissing at their guests just as they arrived?

"Manners? Dad, this is the guy who gave me a concussion!" He accused, pointing an angry fingure in Ivan's direction. If he were a cat he would be bristling. Arthur raised his thick brows and turned his gaze to the tall Russian standing in his hall. He frowned and Toris looked even more nervous as he trembled slightly.

"He's very sorry." Toris quickly stated apologetically glancing toward Alfred. The teen finally noticed him and grinned broadly.

"TORIS!" He cried happily, flinging himself toward him and wrapping him in a crushing a hug. Toris chuckled, patting the teen's back awkwardly.

"It's nice to see you too, Alfred."

"Man, its been forever! I missed ya. How was the trip?" He asked ignoring the Russian completely. Ivan blinked looking at the pair with interest. Were Toris and Alfred close? He'd have to interrogate the brunette later. Maybe he knew vluable information about the American.

"Well you're too old for me to babysit anymore...It was great, I was able to see some distant family and made some new friends." Toris replied happily, disentangling himself from the hug.

"Toris." Came a warm soft call. The Lithuanian turned at the sound and smiled before being enveloped in a much softer hug.

"Hello Matthew, you've been doing well I hope?" Toris greeted after pulling back. The boy nodded before turning to address them all. He was surprised to see Ivan in the company but decided against mentioning it yet. "The food is almost ready. Please head over to the dining room." Matthew stated before returning to the kitchen where his help was needed. The party obeyed heading toward the dining room while chattering amongst themselves.

Ivan stayed at the rear, observing the halls decorated with pictures of the twins and the occasional family portrait along with some paintings. It all seemed so warm and welcoming, so loving. It made him feel even more uncomfortable. As if he wasn't meant to see such things, he wasn't worth it. His mind wandered toward how his sisters were. He frowned as the thoughts led to darker things. He shook his head to clear it. They would find each other again someday. He needed to be positive. His smile was once more back in place.

"Dad, you're seriously letting him stay? This is the guy who sent me to the hospital!" Alfred reiterated, pointing accusingly to the smiling Russian as they entered the dining room. He was hoping the Freak would just leave or disappear of the face of the Earth because he was ignoring him. Life should really have a delete button so he could delete the commie for invading his life and giving him trouble. His ankle still hurt damnit! At least the other's black eyes were still there, though his nose wasn't as swollen...

"Alfred. Ivan is our guest tonight and you will keep your petty disagreements to yourself. Toris is taking care of him and he is therefore a friend of ours. We will discuss this later." Arthur snapped back, his cold green eyes daring his son to argue with him. The gentleman was stressed about the whole dinner and was set on making sure it went perfectly.

Alfred crossed his arms and pouted at his father who promptly ignored him. Arthur was much more interested in conversing with Toris, trying to find more information about his travels and the reason he adopted. Toris though, masterfully kept steering the conversation from the latter. He didn't want to talk about it...yet.

Alfred let out a whine that resembled a kicked puppy when he was ignored and Ivan couldn't help but giggle. He didn't know the American could be so adorable but at the moment he was. His sunny blond hair combed neatly except for that rebellious strand. His cheeks dusted pink and lips formed into a small pout. Blue eyes wide as the clear American sky. Yes, he was very adorable.

Alfred didn't appreciate being laughed at by his nemesis and shot him an amgry cold glare. Ivan giggled louder, the American was just so odd.

"Shut up! God, can't you be like normal for once? This isn't school! I can beat up right here and now!" He hissed threateningly, jabbing a finger into the other's chest. Ivan was still wearing his scarf, Alfred noticed. He flicked his eyes toward the end to see the small tear he had made. Didn't he tell Ivan his father could mend that? Why would he offer that? He must have been out of his mind. Or maybe Ivan had commie mind bending powers. Shit, what if Ivan was some super commie experiment soldier sent to defeat the hero? Everything made sense now! His train of thought was interrupted as the villain spoke.

"Da, it means I can hurt you to little American." Ivan responded, a shadowy glint in his eyes. This night was even more entertaining than he thought and they hadn't even commenced eating yet.

"Little? You're just a giant commie freak!"

"Alfred! Stop it! Can't you behave yourself for one night? Sit down!" Arthur ordered angrily and Alfred hesitated before sitting down in one of the chairs. He crossed his arms and glared at the table. Ivan blinked, Alfred seemed to obey his father once the other was angry. The British man seemed to like to yell a lot, he kept scowling at Alfred disapproving. Ivan wondered if he was like his own father and he had to suppress a shudder. He'd have to watch the British man, he didn't want Alfred to be a victim of the same things he suffered. Wait...why did he care all of a sudden? Alfred was merely an idiotic American who didn't know when to get his nose out of other people's business. Was he really feeling protective over the blond? He had only ever felt protective over his sisters...

"Hey! Yo Ivan? Snap out of it." Alfred called waving his hand in front of the tall teen's face. Ivan blinked and saw that most of the guests had already taken their seats. Arthur sat at one head of the table conversing with Toris who sat beside him. On Arthur's other side sat Gilbert who was speaking with Matthew next to him. They had left the kitchen together after finishing their duties and were now talking about something or another. Ivan wondered why the albino's hand was resting on Alfred's brother's thigh... Oblivious to Matthew, Alfred sat in the chair next to him, his focus still on glaring at the Russian. Though, Ivan noted, it seemed more subdued after being scolded again by his father. There was an empty seat at the other head of the table and another next to it beside Toris. He assumed that one was for him.

He sat down in the seat looking at the nice plates and silverware. It had taken him a while to master using them. The orphanage barely had enough bowls for the children, having any sort of silverware was a rarity. Once he sat down he realized Alfred was sitting right across from him. The Russian gave him his creepy smile and received a scowl and muttered words (he assumed they comprised of 'commie' or 'freak') in return. Ivan wondered who they were waiting for before realizing they were probably waiting for Alfred's mother.

"Francis! What's taking so long?" Arthur yelled into the kitchen in patience was thinning and he was quite hungry. He should of just cooked the dinner, it wouldn't of nearly taken this long to prepare. But his whole family had banned from the kitchen much to his displeasure. His cooking was good no matter what those gits said.

Alfred smirked before opening his mouth and much to Ivan's surprise mouthing the exact same response as the voice emanating from the kitchen. "You can not rush perfection, _mon cher!_" Ivan blinked and Alfred chuckled to himself. That was a male voice... Should he ask?

"Papa, do you need help?" Matthew offered and Ivan became even more confused. Papa? But he thought the British man was their father... He frowned in thought concentrating on his plate.

"We have two dads." Alfred stated bringing Ivan out of his thoughts. "I have a dad and a papa. They're gay. We're adopted. That answer your question?" He spat, glaring at the Russian in open hostility. Ivan smiled at him and was glad the mystery was put to close. though he had never heard of two men being romanticly involved together. Then again he had only be subjugated to poor education so there was probably a lot he hadn't heard of. He was about to reply when a man with his blond hair tied loosely back, entered the dining room while carrying a steaming pot.

"Voila!" He said happily setting it down and ignoring Arthur's "finally". He turned to Toris smiling warmly at him. "Toris, so good to see you again... and this must be your ward! _Bonjour!_" Francis greeted the tall teen.

Ivan nodded and opened his mouth when Alfred spat, "Its the guy who gave me a concussion."

Francis eyes widened and he studied the Russian. "_Vraiment?_ What a coincidence! So you must be Ivan! And Alfred don't forget you broke his nose." Francis reminded with a cool smirk and Alfred grumbled, sinking to his seat. Ivan merely smiled, unsure how to react to so much attention. At least there weren't any violent urges yet.

"Well,_ bon appetit!_" Francis announced. Immediately, Alfred and Gilbert began stabbing at whatever meat they could find on the table. Ivan watched the others help themselves (more politely instead of starved animals) before copying their behavior carefully. He didn't want to mess up, he wanted to learn more about Alfred and this might be his best opportunity. There was just something that attracted him to the obnoxious American.

Ivan ate in silence, listening to the scraps of conversation that lingered over the table. A lot was of Arthur scolding Alfred's manners, he found it quite amusing. He gave the teen a smirk and Alfred scowled at him. Ivan giggled before taking another bite, the food was quite delicious. He noticed that Gilbert and Matthew would sometimes whisper to each other, though he couldn't hear exactly what about. Toris spoke mostly to Arthur who seemed determined to not answer any of his husbands comments. Ivan thought that was rude but Alfred's other father didnt seem to mind the treatment, only smiling more.

"Do not worry Ivan, I will get him back for this when we retire to the bedroom~" Francis whispered, noticing the teens observations of his husbands behavior. Ivan was quite surprised at the man's perceptiveness though he wasn't sure what he mean by his comment. Do what in the bedroom? He would ask except Alfred, who had heard, reddened and glared at his father.

"Don't tell him that!" The teen hissed before stabbing at his food. It was already embarrassing enough to know all about his parent's sex life through the paper thin walls. Having Papa announced it to the world, including his nemesis, was just awful.

Gilbert looked around the table and noticed all the normal small conversations going about the group. It was too normal. Best to stir things up. He took another bite and pondered what to do or say. Then an awesome idea (the only kinds he ever thought up) shined inside his mind and he grinned wickedly.

"Gil? What are you thinking?" Matthew asked warily, noticing the grin and knowing it could only lead to bad things. Very bad things. Gilbert ignored him and instead addressed Francis, grin plastered to his face.

"Francis? Could you tell us the story of how you and Mr. Kirkland met?" He asked innocently enough. The reaction around the table was immediate. The twins suddenly became very red and both groaned at the same time. Arthur stabbed his food and glared at Gilbert with intense fury. On the other hand, Francis looked simply delighted at the prospect of telling the story. Ivan was quite surprised at the variety of reactions.

"No. We've all heard it anyway." Arthur said quickly. Gilbert pouted, how could his awesome idea fail? It just couldn't! Then he caught sight of the Freak. His grin returned full force.

"But Mr. Kirkland, Ivan has yet to hear the story." Arthur paled and he held his face in his was no stopping it now.

"Of course I'll tell the story! Its only fair that I recount the tale to our guest." The Frenchman said in a sing song voice. The twins groaned once more.

"Papa please!" Matthew begged, not wanting the utter mortification that always accompanied the story.

"Nonsense Matthieu." Francis shrugged him off and winked over at Ivan.

"At least tell the clean version! Please!" Alfred sighed. He had enough memories from the time Papa gave them the "talk" in 6th grade using explicit examples from his own sex life. He had been scarred for months.

"Fine fine! Let me just begin."

* * *

_ It all started when Arthur got a new job at a publishing company._

Arthur was excited, quite excited in fact. Finally, he had gotten a job he could somewhat like instead of one he would come to abhor. Sure, it wasn't his dream job of being a tailor but editing novels seemed like a good fit. Especially since he had been given the fantasy genre. How he loved tales of magical worlds filled with faeries and unicorns.

He entered the office building with an unusual smile. He was sad to admit that he mostly wore a scowl on his face. It wasn't his fault though, he was constantly surrounded by morons. Hopefully, this job would be much better. A no nonsense brunette with an odd curl met him at the front desk. He was dressed professionally and held a clipboard in his right hand.

"Hello, my name is Arthur Kirkland." The blond greeted politely, he was a gentleman after all. The brunette nodded noncommittally scribbling something on his clipboard.

"Yes, Mr. Kirkland we've been expecting you. My name is Roderich Edelstein, please follow me so you can meet Mr. Beilschimdt**,** your new boss." He stated, turning around and beginning to walk through the many cubicles toward a closed office in the back. Arthur was surprised and slightly annoyed to find the other hadn't been writing notes on his clipboard. He had been writing music.

Arthur kept the question within him, not wanting to ruin his prospects, and followed behind silently. They reached the office and the brunette opened it, pushing Arthur inside before closing the door. Arthur straitened himself and looked up at his new boss. He felt a bit intimidated. The man was blond like him but with his hair slicked back. He had piercing blue eyes and was quite muscular. He gave off an aura of authority that made the Brit feel quite inferior. Still, he held his ground.

"Hello sir, my name is Arthur Kirkland and I was recently hired in order to edit fantasy novels." He introduced hurriedly, he had habit of speaking quickly when nervous. He mentally cursed himself for it, he probably sounded like a bloody moron. His boss looked at him for a long moment before nodding.

"Hello Mr. Kirkland, I'm Ludwig Beilschimdt. I hope you enjoy working here with us." The introduction seemed forced as if the blond just wanted to get back to his work. He didn't wait for Arthur to answer. "Elizaveta." He called, the door opened almost immediately and a light brunette woman stepped in. Her hair was long and she wore a pretty smile along with a flower behind her ear.

"Take Arthur to his new cubicle and get him set up." Ludwig ordered before glancing back at the Englishman. Arthur nodded meekly as his boss returned to his work and followed the woman out the door. As soon as they stepped out she turned to him excitedly.

"Hello! Arthur was it? My name is Elizaveta Héderváry but you can call me Elizaveta. I'm Ludwig's secretary." She introduced pulling him into a hug. He gaped, such informality to her direct superior? And hugging? What happened to formal handshakes? "Anyway, I need to ask you a few questions before giving you a cubicle." Arthur tilted his head in slight confusion before nodding. This job seemed to be getting weird...

"Alright first off, are you gay?" She asked, brimming with excitement. Arthur gaped again and flushed.

"What? I d-don't see how this has anything to do with editing!" He remarked, trying to fight off the blush staining his cheeks. The woman only smiled wider.

"So you are! Wonderful!" She scribbled something down.

Arthur sputtered and furrowed his thick brows. "I never said I was!" He said indignantly, just what kind of business was this?

"True. But you didn't say you weren't. Its fine! That means I don't have anymore questions! I have the perfect cubicle for you." She stated happily, grabbing his wrist in order to drag him down the aisle of cubicles. He followed helplessly, still red in the face. "This cubicle is the best in the whole office! Its in the corner right by the window. It gives the greatest view of the city. I've been having trouble filling it so you're like a god send!" She cheered happily.

Arthur was even more confused. If it was the best cubicle then why were they having so much trouble assigning it? He felt a mounting dread settle in his stomach and he swallowed thickly.

"Here it is! Nice huh? Well if you need me I'll be at my desk by Ludwig's door. Here's your first piece of work!" She said hurriedly, pushing an envelope into his arms and rushing away. Arthur blinked rapidly before looking into his cubicle.

It was indeed nice, slightly larger than his last one at his previous job. It did have a window and the city looked quite breathtaking. Maybe they didn't like it because it was in the corner? Fortunately, he preferred it that way since he enjoyed his solitude. Yes, this cubicle would suit him just fine.

He let slip a small smile and sat down in his chair, setting his first piece of work on the desk. Yes, everything would be fine.

"_**BONJOUR!**_" Came a loud cry and Arthur almost jumped out of his chair in surprise at the sudden vocalization. With wide emerald eyes he looked up to see a blond man's head poking out from the only neighboring cubicle. His blue eyes looking down at him with amusement. "You have such a pretty smile!" The stranger cried happily and Arthur immediately scowled. Who the hell was this guy?

But the other man, the handsome dashing blond Frenchman could tell he was scowling because he knew deep down he could never be with such a gorgeous man.

* * *

"THAT WAS NOT WHY I WAS SCOWLING!" Arthur interrupted angrily, his face extremely flushed. Gilbert was laughing obnoxiously in his chair, threatening to fall out of it. The twins had identical expressions: red faces defeatedly held in their hands as they pondered 'WHY?' to the heavens. Ivan absorbed everything curiously. "If your going to tell the damn story, tell it right!"

"Yes, yes." Francis sighed with a pout aimed for his irate husband and gave Ivan a wink. He smirked, taking a sip of his red wine before continuing.

* * *

Arthur continue to scowl up at the stranger, so Francis decided to continue the conversation himself. "My name is Francis Bonnefoy and I'm your new neighbor!" He grinned happily, finally new prey and what a cute specimen too. Once you get past those monstrosities sitting above his eyes. ("Don't you dare make fun of my eyebrows!" "Do not worry! I love them now, mon cher!")

Arthur bit back a grimace at the heavy french accent. He had to be civil, even if it was an obnoxious Frenchman. He had to be a gentleman, he didn't want to lose his job hours after being hired due to murdering a coworker. Even though it seemed a lot more ideal. Maybe he could make it seem like the other had gotten a very deep, large paper cut that lead to his bloody death...

"Arthur Kirkland." He introduced curtly, hoping the conversation was over and he could begin his work._ I will not kill my coworker_, he repeated in his head like a mantra.

"_Merveilleux!_ I edit romance novels and you?" Maybe he could get out more than two words this time...

"Fantasy" Arthur answered, why couldn't the guy get the message? _I will NOT kill my coworker!_

"Alright, one last question. What is your favorite sexual position?" He asked with a smirk. The Englishman's eyes widened and he spluttered. His face was an angry embarrassed red and he glared at the Frenchman with new found hatred. Francis chuckled at the reaction.

"Why would you need to know that?" Arthur demanded, keeping the curses he so wished to utter inside._ I WILL NOT KILL MY BLOODY COWORKER_.

"It will save time if I know in advance, that way there is no awkward pause as we try to figure out how to do it." Francis answered matter of factly. Arthur had to reign in the urge to punch him straight in the face. _**I WILL NOT KILL MY BLOODY WANKER OF A COWORKER!** _He had to at least wait until his second day at work. Patience Arthur, patience.

"I'm not going to dignify that question with a response." He spat, turning quickly to his work. He was pretty sure he knew why no one wanted this cubicle. Obviously, the man was a perverted Frenchman, best to ignore him. Francis laughed and ducked back down. He'd know the answer to his question soon enough, his charm always won out in the end.

* * *

"It took my a while but I got my answer. Arthur loves doing it doggy style. He's such a kinky little boy." Francis cooed while Arthur looked absolutely mortified.

"**FRANCIS! THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!**" He screamed in utter fury and embarrassment .How dare the frog reveal such information?

"_Desole!_ It just slipped out!" Francis quickly apologized but couldn't stop the Englishman from storming out of the room.

"Papa! We asked for clean! Clean!" Matthew reminded, his face bright red. Gilbert cackled, that was the best part of this story. Matthew would get all flushed and adorable. Of course the twin sent him a harsh glare, but it was worth it to see that pink face.

"Do not worry. I'll get him back and continue the story." Francis assured, standing up and following his husband out the room.

Ivan blinked and listened to everything. So was this how you courted a love interest? He hadn't even known that you could fall in love with another male before the night. Interesting... He glanced over at Alfred who was glaring at his plate while trying to get rid of his now permanent blush. The American looked up and scowled at the Russian.

"Shut up!" He whined looking away wasn't his fault his parents were so horribly embarrassing. The Freak didn't have to rub it in!

Ivan was pretty sure he hadn't spoken but shrugged it off. He hoped Alfred's french father continued his story. He wanted to learn more about the courting behaviors between two men. He didn't think it be appropriate to ask what doggy style exactly meant. He could just research it on the computer Toris let him use once they returned home. He wondered, if the Alfred's father enjoyed 'doing it doggy style', did that mean Alfred did too? He would have to ask him at some point.

"Great now they're arguing." Alfred muttered, the sounds of shouting echoing into the dining room. "They always argue" He whined, taking gulp of the Coke he insisted on having with his meal.

Interesting...so he and Alfred's arguments were seen as normal between couples. He smiled brighter. "

Yep, and their fights always end in sex." Gilbert announced.

"GILBERT!" Came the identical cry from the two flustered brothers. "Shut up okay! We don't want to here that!" They both yelled out, their voices synchronized. Gilbert chuckled at the reaction. It had always creeped him out when the twins were able to speak the same sentences at the same time, especially since they were so different from each other. And Mattie was definitively the awesomer twin.

So after an argument it was customary to have sex? Americans are quite odd... Ivan glanced back at Alfred who was even redder now, his focus now on glaring at the cacking albino. If that were true...Then how come he and Alfred had yet to have intercourse? Hmmm... He'd have to research this more.

Francis returned to the room, dragging an angry Englishman with him. "Alright, where was I?"

* * *

And so it begins!  
Yay! Longest chappie yet~  
The dinner and Francis' beautiful tale of heartwarming love and romance (not) shall continue in the next chapter!~  
I think Papa Francis should have like a romantic advice column... except all his answers would be 'have le sex'  
But with people who want break up advice the advice would be 'Here is my address: XXXX Come have le sex with moi~'  
But that's just me~ XD

I'm going to try and update by next week before school starts... But once school starts I dont know how often I'll be able to write... I'll figure something out~ This stories to much fun to write to abandon. Though I'm pretty sure its going to be LONG. Especially since were like 10 chapters in and Alfred and Ivan still hate each other~ Well maybe hate is a strong word... Whatever...  
The romance will come soon~ Be patient my dearies!

Thank you guys so much for all the awesome reviews! I love you all!  
So yep, that's all I've got to say. So review and DFTBA (kudos to those who get that)!


	11. Chapter 10

"You were talking about how you were gonna tap-" Gilbert said before his mouth was rudely covered by Matthew's hand when the twins yelled his name angrily. Arthur glared daggers at the albino, wondering if he could get away with murdering him along with the frog.

"Gilbert, if I hear you say just one more word I will make sure you never set foot in this house again." The Briton threatened in a cold authoritative tone that made Gilbert quiet. He didn't want to be banned from the house, since then he couldn't hang out here with Matt...

"Well, before we have anymore interruptions, I'll continue the story." Francis broke in, saving the albino from his husband's wrath as it was once again focused on himself.

"Frog remember, short and CLEAN! Do you understand me?" Arthur spat menacingly and Francis nodded quickly. His husband could be so scary sometimes! Even though the Englishman seemed small and weak he had proven himself to have quite the powerful punch. Francis remembered being the victim of them on numerous occasions...

"_D'accord_. So Arthur was now working beside me, though soon he'd be laying beneath me-"

"FRANCIS!"

"Yes, yes I'm sorry! I had to. No more from now on!" Francis shouted back, raising his hands up in surrender while trying to reign in his chuckles.

* * *

Arthur turned back to his work, hoping to keep his new obnoxious neighbor from his mind. This was quite difficult because the bloody Frenchman was humming that stupid song from Moulin Rouge. Only speaking the one part with a slight deviation from the normal line.

"_Voulez vous coucher avec moi_ Arthur!" Francis sang as he edited the novel in front of him. He was a masterful multitasker and prided himself in being able to do most things one handed, if you know what he means. The Frenchman smirked as he heard the muffled noise of a head bashing itself onto a desk. It was only a matter of time until the cute little Englishman was in his bed. Hmmm...Who should he seduce after him?

Sadly, Francis soon realized that Arthur was not, in fact, going to be easy to coerce into bed. For some reason he didn't fall for any of his normal charms. He would yell and punch and curse at him. Even kneed him in the groin a few times. Fortunately, nothing was damaged from the abuse. Though, his shin was bruised from the nasty kick he received after groping that nice ass.

Arthur had even tried to file a harassment suit only to find out that the bloody pervert was one of the best editors in the company. In contrast he had been working there for less than a week. Bloody hell. He'd have to deal with him himself. At least he didn't get in trouble for yelling at the Frenchman or punching him. In fact Elizaveta always gave him a thumbs up after he beat the pervert away. Then she'd grin at him and start writing on a piece of paper, her whole manner very excited. He wondered what she was writing...

His thoughts were interrupted when he was spanked quite suddenly. He let out a startled (and certainly very manly) yelp of surprise, turning around immediately to face his tormentor. He gritted his teeth, glaring at the bloody annoying handsome Frenchman. Except not handsome. Definitely not handsome. He was a frog.

Francis smirked at him, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively while motioning with his head to the back closet and then giving a wink. Arthur reddened and angrily kicked the man's shin, enjoying the hiss of pain as the other clutched his now injured leg.

"Don't you dare insinuate I would EVER have intercourse with you ESPECIALLY at the work place!" Arthur ordered furiously, only receiving a pout from the Frenchman.

"You are so stiff Arthur! Let me help you relax! If you come over to my place I could give you a massage~." Francis continued, releasing his injured leg to wrap an arm around the uncooperative Englishman. He didn't think he had ever worked this hard to get someone in bed. It merely made the game more exciting.

"Get your bloody hands off me!" Arthur yelled, wrenching the arm away from him and taking a step back. "Elizaveta can't you help me?" He groaned, glancing back to her. They had been fighting right in front of her and she was once again scribbling on papers.

The brown haired woman looked up, a mischievous smile on her face. "Arthur~, could you do me a favor? I just cant draw this hand correctly. Model this drawing for me?" She asked innocently, holding out a piece of paper with a very detailed picture. In it, Francis was dipping a blushing, practically naked Arthur and kissing him roughly as the Brit clung to him desperately. Arthur's eyes were as wide as dinner plates, all semblance of innocence he'd had before this job shattered before him. His face slowly began to get hotter and redder as he looked at the graphic drawing.

Francis on the other hand seemed absolutely delighted at the picture. Really, Elizaveta had outdone herself this time. He gave her a wink before wrapping his arms around the frozen Brit. He met no resistance...yet. His smirk grew as he dipped him down quite suddenly, relishing the gasp of surprise as startled wide eyes turned toward him in confusion. He was dipped more and on instinct he grasped at Francis shirt, trying to keep his balance. And then the world froze as lips pressed against his own, warm yet demanding, seeking entrance immediately.

As soon as he felt the others tongue enter his mouth, Arthur snapped back into reality. His green eyes narrowed and he bit down on the tongue, grinning cruelly at the pained yell as the other pulled away quickly. He grunted when he was dropped, hitting the floor with a thud. Francis was covering his mouth, his eyes teary, looking at him like a kicked puppy. Arthur almost felt guilty. Almost. Then he glared and stood up, threatening him graphically that if he ever pulled a stunt like that again he'd have him castrated and deported. With that said, he stormed back to his cubicle. The day was almost over, just a few more hours...

Francis whined as he pulled his hand away from his mouth. _Merde,_ that hurt! He had never worked so hard on a single person. What was his problem anyway? He pursed his lips in thought before lifting his eyes toward the secretary. Elizaveta was trying to stem the blood flowing freely down her nose while also making sure not to get any of the red liquid on her drawings. This doujinshi was going to be amazing!

Francis rolled his eyes and smiled, his tongue still throbbing. Elizaveta was so odd. She encouraged his sexual exploits, as a long as they were toward men. But if he ever thought about going after Roderich she'd beat him with her frying pan yelling that he was hers. Still, she did supply him with great pornographic images...

"You know, Arthur seems to be more of the traditional type." The brunette pointed out, head tilted back. Francis turned to her curiously. "Maybe you'd get more success if you took him out on a date."

The Frenchman blinked. A date? He hadn't gone out on a date since high school. He frowned in thought. A date meant something serious... Did he want something serious? Usually the answer was a straight out no. But... He really wanted to see Arthur's sex face ("PAPA!" "But its the truth!" "Bloody frog"). Yes, he would go on a date with Arthur, then have sex and then end it. Perfect plan.

* * *

Arthur was furious, absolutely furious. The damn Frenchman had embarrassed him in front of the entire office! And Elizaveta was working with him! Obviously no decent woman would fantasize and draw such inappropriate scenes, especially of her coworkers. Francis must of put it up to her, the poor girl. At least he had been able to steer clear from the pervert the rest of the day, though that fact did nothing to quell his mounting anger.

Why couldn't he stop thinking about the bloody frog? And that stupid kiss, why did it send shivers down his spine whenever he though of it? How he flushed bright red in embarrassment when his mind would return to the event. Bloody Frenchman and his conniving way of sneaking into his unconscious. He was going to kill that man, castrate him then kill him.

As soon as the clock struck five he stormed out of the office, not waiting to be ridiculed for the display earlier. He past Elizaveta without so much as a glance, gritting his teeth when he heard her giggle quietly. He walked faster, striding hurriedly through the streets, anger brewing within him. He needed a drink and needed one fast. At least it was Friday, he could stay away from the bloody frog for the next two days. Maybe he could get him deported...He'd have to make some calls.

In his fury and dark thoughts involving elaborate plans to get rid of the infuriating blond, he had failed to notice said blond following him a few steps behind. Francis smirked, as he watched his little Englishman silently brood about how much handsomer the Frenchman was compared to him, how he wasn't worthy of the others admiration. Or at least that's what Francis assumed he was thinking about. He waited a few moments as Arthur stepped into a ratty bar, aiming to surprise the Brit with his presence.

Arthur stalked into the dimly lit pub, slightly crowded on this Friday evening. He slipped into one of the stools and glared at the counter top, his only hope to get hammered and forget about the mess of today. He wanted the kiss, the embarrassment and all thoughts of the stupid frog to just erase from his mind. He ordered his drink and the bartender passed it toward him. Taking his first sip, a voice disrupted his peace.

"Arthur! No hello? How rude." Francis spoke up with a pout, turning his head to look at the startled Brit. "And after you almost bit off my tongue! I still have not yet received my apology..."

Arthur was blinking rapidly, the Frenchman could not be sitting next to him! His grip on the glass tightened to the point where he was afraid he would shatter it. "Listen to me carefully Francis." He spoke quietly, seriously and with as much menace as he could muster. "This is not work. I don't have to take your damn abuse. If you do not leave in the next minute I will personally see to it that you are castrated, deported and forced to toil in the putrid alleyways of your precious Paris! And if you think you deserve an apology because of that bloody stunt you pulled you are gladly mistaken." The Brit was practically seething.

"You are always so tense Arthur. _Et_, it would be very rude of me to leave in the middle of our first date."

Arthur's eyes widened and he chocked on his scotch, coughing horribly as blush formed upon his face. "WHAT?" He yelled, turning to face the blond for the first time, green eyes staring at him in disbelief.

"_Quoi? _We are on a date, _non?"_ Francis responded coolly, innocent smile in place. Though his blue eyes looked at him with pure amusement.

"No, we are definitely not! Why would you ever think this was a date, you bloody moron!" Arthur snapped back trying to reign in his blush. Did this man really pride himself in his romantic skill when he couldn't even realize what a date was?

"Of course it is. What is a date to you then, _mon petit chaton_?" Francis asked, trying to suppress the urge to grin manically. The Brit was too cute when he was all flustered and bothered, he'd have to do it more often.

"Dinner at a nice restaurant. Not some bar! Why am I even talking to you? Ge-"

"Dinner? _D'accord. _I'll pick you up _demain_ at seven. See you then Arthur!" Francis decided happily, jumping of his stool gracefully. Arthur stared at him in confusion, almost not reacting when the Frenchman leaned in to give him a kiss. Luckily he got his senses back in order to smack him away. What had just happened?

Wait...Did Francis just ask him out?

"Francis! I would NEVER go on a date-" He stopped, glancing around the shady bar for the missing silky blond hair. Where had the frog gone? He ground his teeth and smashed his head against the counter. The insufferable wine bastard had left before he could refuse to go with him! Did that mean he had to go now? Fuck!

Arthur groaned and downed the next drink. He needed to get wasted now more than ever.

* * *

Arthur glared at the clock, it read 7:01. Bloody Frenchman didn't even have the decency to arrive on time. Not that he was waiting or anything. It was just common courtesy to arrive when you said you would and not late. The nerve, he should be grateful that he was even letting him take him anywhere!

He heard a knock on his door and shot up from his seat before freezing. What was he doing? If he rushed over to the door than it would seem as if he _wanted_ to go. Which certainly wasn't the case. That was why he decided to not even wear a tie to this stupid thing. Maybe he should... It would take only a second to go get it. Another knock and he abandoned the idea, scurrying toward the door. He reassured himself it was only because he was being a gentleman.

He opened the door to reveal his...ugg _date. _He cringed at the word. And then he took in the sight before him. Much to his surprise, Francis looked _good_. His hair was perfect, his outfit perfect and his eyes were so blue and deep. He repressed the urge to stare and quickly looked away, bloody hell he was blushing again. Life was truly against him.

"_Bonjour_ Arthur! You look ravishing." He complimented with a sweet smile as he offered his hand to the Brit. Arthur scowled at him, his usually defense, and turned away from the wino in order to lock his door. He walked past the blond, head low and refusing to speak to the git. Why was he doing this? Maybe he could of hidden in his bathroom for a few hours...

Francis raised an eyebrow at Arthur's reaction, half hoping he would jump into his arms and beg him to take him there on the steps. Then the couch, the table, the shower and finally the bed. Sadly, Arthur was a stubborn brat and so he merely followed his sulking date down the sidewalk of the busy city. Skipping until he was beside the Brit he tried to grasp the others hand, only to have it wrenched away and get a smack on his arm.

"No. No hand holding. I cant believe I'm even doing this. Keep your hands to yourself." Arthur snapped sternly, quickening his stride. Francis pouted and let out a dramatic sigh but didn't try again. Hopefully, Arthur would loosen up during dinner or this whole plan would crumble and he'd never get to see his Englishman in complete bliss. They walked in silence, Francis directing their route through the city streets while Arthur followed, head down and hands fisted by his sides. Maybe he should just run for it.

"Almost there~" Francis sang, doing a little spin in order to grin at the Englishman. Arthur rolled his eyes at how absurd the Frenchman was acting. Why was he so happy anyway? It was just dinner... Though, it did make him feel happy that Francis was actually happy to go on a date with _him. _Not many found his company very appealing... He shook the thought away, Francis _never_ made him happy, unless he was in pain of course.

"Where are we going anyway? It better not be some bloody french restaurant." He grumbled, though it probably was. He bet Francis had chosen the snootiest french establishment only to spite him. Damn Frenchman, so vain and self centered. Why had he agreed to go to this? Did he really expect it to go we-

"Non. I knew you wouldn't enjoy it. So I chose an Italian restaurant. I hope you enjoy their food." Francis answered with a soft smile. Arthur furrowed his brows, his hurried steps slowing in thought. Had Francis actually been considerate? That was impossible...but he had. Arthur resisted the urge to smile. "Of course, I was debating on going to an English place but I think the last one closed down due to murdering the culinary arts~" The Frenchman teased, the Brit was way too quiet. He wanted to rile him up a bit.

Arthur head snapped up in order to defend his national pride. "English food is delicious! Much better than the crap you wine bastards serve." He snarled, ready to aim a kick to the others shin. Francis chuckled and put up his hands up in surrender.

"It is merely the truth Arthur! But anyway, we are here." Francis announced, showing of a lit up building with open arms. Arthur looked up at the refined building with a sign that read _Spendere Tutto. _It looked expensive, very expensive. How did Francis have money to spend on such lavish dinners? He'd be find going to Olive Garden. He felt a tug on his arm, pulling him toward the restaurant. He yanked his arm from the grip quickly. He got the message and started to walk toward the restaurant.

Francis had a reservation for them and so they were immediately whisked away to the dimly lit back, seated at small table for two. Arthur looked around the place, finding it disgustingly romantic while Francis ordered a fine wine for the both of them. The Englishman picked up the menu and winced at the prices. Maybe he should order the most expensive item so that Francis would become bankrupt and leave him alone... No, that seemed a little heartless at the moment.

A waiter came skipping over to them, an obnoxious curl bouncing along with him in his reddish brown hair. He smiled down at the both of them before introducing himself. "Ve~ _Buon Giorno_! My name is Feliciano and I shall be your server today. So do you seen anything you like?" He asked happily, eyes darting between the two of them before smiling wider.

Arthur inwardly groaned, he probably thought they were a couple. Which they certainly were not! Francis ordered for him, seeming to have planned this entire dinner and not even asking him if he wanted to have pasta. Bloody french prat didn't care about him at all. It was all a cheap lie to get in his pants. As the menu was taking gently from his hands he found himself getting slowly angrier at the blond in front of him.

"Is something wrong, _cher_?" Francis questioned, taking sip of wine from his glass. The cute little waiter, Feliciano was it, had filled his glass. Arthur glared at him, anger boiling over at the amused look in those damn too blue eyes.

"Yes, as a matter a fact there is." he sneered, sitting up and crossing his arms. "All of this is just an elaborate plan to get in my trousers. You don't care about me or my feelings, all you care about is your bloody libido and frankly I dont like being used. Especillay by a bloody frog!"

Francis blinked at the accusation, trying to mask how true it was. Arthur made it sound so cruel! He pursed his lips in thought, his plan seemed to be failing. He sighed sadly and looked over at the cute little blond. "So, I'm guessing I wont be seeing your bedroom tonight?" He asked.

Arthur reddened in anger and embarrassment. "No! Of course not. I cant believe you!" He hissed, getting ready to leave. What was he thinking, coming to this stupid date thing with the vile likes of him.

"Arthur, do not act like I am in the wrong here. I am trying to do this your way, to get to know you better. Do you realize I haven't been in a serious relationship in a very long time? Yet, this entire time you've said absolutely nothing. I have learned nothing more from you, so how could this night be successful when you close yourself up so tightly? Now if it ended in bliss, then I could see it as a success." Francis replied coolly, making Arthur stiffen in his seat. Green eyes narrowed on him, scrutinizing his relaxed exterior.

"You don't want to get to know me. You want to fuck me then dump me. I know your type Francis and I honestly have no more time for this." Arthur spat angrily. Francis raised a brow.

"Has that happened to you before? Do tell. I wish to know more about you, _mon petit chaton._" He asked smoothly, genuin interest glinting in his blue eyes. Arthur tensed, and didnt say anything, merely staring at the Frenchman. Francis let out a sigh, swirling his glass around before taking another sip of his ruby liquid.

"You see Arthur? You tell me nothing so how am I suppose to enjoy your company unless we are doing something more _physical_." He accented the last word with a seductive smirk, his blue eyes meeting the green stare.

Arthur bristled at the comment and crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. "Why would I reveal such personal information to a frog like you?" He spat, waiting to see how the Frenchman would reply. Unfortunately, he never got the chance.

Feliciano, their waiter, came skipping to their side, balancing their food on his platter. He set the two bowls of pasta down and refilled Francis' wine glass. _"Buon appetito!_" He cried before striding away and leaving them to their meal.

Francis smiled as the waiter retreated, he was quite adorable. But he had to focus on the prey at hand. He turned back to Arthur and picked up his silverware gracefully. With expertise he twirled the strands around before placing them in his mouth neatly. _Delicieux_. The price was well worth the food but it would be better if Arthur enjoyed it. He looked up and couldn't help but let out an amused laugh.

Arthur was red, his large eyebrows knitted in concentration as he battled cruel strands of spaghetti. With clumsy movements he grappled with keeping the strands on his fork while not getting the red sauce all over his face. Hearing the other chuckledmade him redden more and glare fiercely at the Frenchman. He huffed, dropping the silverware onto the table and crossing his arms. He wasn't hungry anyway.

"Shut up, frog. I haven't had spaghetti in a long time" He tried to defend himself.

"You mean you haven't had edible food in a long time?" The Frenchman corrected and received a scolding green glare.

Francis gave him a sweet smile as he twirled more strands on his fork easily. Instead of placing them in his mouth though, he leaned forward. Arthur stared at the pasta offered to him and his green eyes narrowed at the frog.

"I am _not_ letting you feed me."

"Oh come on Arthur! You must have at least one romantic bone in your body? Let me have this one thing and I wont bother you for sex the rest of the night." He promised, blue eyes pleading for just a small gesture of intimacy. Arthur blinked at the earnest request and sighed bitterly. He grumbled to himself before leaning forward and wrapping his lips around the pasta. It did taste very good.

"Now is that so bad?" Francis cooed, grinning as he twirled more pasta for his date. Arthur gave him halfhearted glare and eyes the pasta, he wanted more. When Francis offered his fork this time the Brit didn't hesitate to take it in again. Francis' smile broadened. He continued feeding the blond, enjoying how he didn't seem as angry anymore. Finally he had caught a break with the difficult man. Of course, their peace was soon disrupted.

"Ahh!" Came a cry and the pair turned their hands in surprise. Just in time to see their bubbly waiter trip and the bowls on his plate fly into the air. And soon, the pasta splattered all over them as the bowls shattered on the table and floor. Francis blinked a few times, feeling strands of warm spaghetti sliding down his face and sauce in his beautiful hair. What a disgusting mess!

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the stubborn uptight Englishman begin to laugh. A loud happy laugh that left him clutching his sides tightly with his eyes squeezed shut. Francis stared at him, he had never heard the other laugh, it was a beautiful sound. The large smile gracing the blond's features made him that much more handsome. Really, Arthur needed to smile more often. Francis felt something warm in his chest as he smiled sincerely, letting out a small chuckle.

Yes, he loved to see Arthur happy, even if it meant staining his clothes and dirtying his hair. It was well worth it. That fact surprised him.

"Y-you look like a bloody mess!" Arthur panted out, trying to regain his composure as he wiped at his watery green eyes. "You probably spent hours dressing up and look, your a mess. Bloody brilliant!

Francis gave a pout, pulling out a few spaghetti strands from his shirt. "You are so cruel, _cher_. I am not the only one covered in sauce you know." He pointed out, smirking at his date who still looked cute even with food splattered all over him. And he had yet to stop smiling! The night truly was a success now.

Arthur rolled his eyes and was about to retort when their waiter rushed toward them, tears in his big brown eyes. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so so so so sorry!" He cried, bowing his head with each word.

"Do not worry. It is fine! But may we have our bill? _Merci_." Francis answered, giving him a reassuring smile. The red head bit his lip before nodding and hurried away. Arthur picked up his napkin wiping his sauce covered face.

"Well I'm going to need a shower..." he mused, small smile still in place. Francis found himself loving the smile more and more.

"May I join you?" He asked playfully and received a halfhearted glare.

"I thought you said you weren't going to try anymore." Arthur reminded sternly and Francis let out a small chuckle.

"_Desole_! It is difficult for me not to..." He flashed a seductive smirk before turning to accept the bill. Feliciano also brought them two towels which they accepted happily while also stating that they were receiving a discount because of the incident. The red head once more began apologizing fiercely, threatening to cry and forcing them to reassure him once more that it was alright. Francis paid and soon they were out on the streets again, except the mood was much lighter.

"Well, that was interesting." Francis announced as they walked down the sidewalk, receiving odd looks because of their attire. He ignored them, he was too happy to care.

"I suppose it was." Arthur agreed, smiling softly and looking up to the sky. Wait did he and Francis actually agree on something?

"You know Arthur, you really should smile more often."

Arthur stopped and turned to the Frenchman with a raised brow. "And why is that? Because I'm too 'stiff and grumpy'" He sneered, he felt more comfortable being angry at the frog.

"Non, because you look breathtaking when your happy."

Arthur felt his cheeks redden at the comment and the way the blue eyes seemed to stare into him. It was probably just a lie anyway, some other tactic to get in bed with him. Well he wasn't going to fall for it! In fact he was going to curse him out and storm away-

"May I hold your hand this time?" Francis asked, looking at the others soft pale, empty hand longingly. Arthur scowled and sighed before hesitantly reaching out his hand and letting the blond grasp it. Francis grinned at him before walking down the streets once more, hand in hand and covered in sauce. They must of looked ridiculous.

Arthur wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings. His concentration was focused on keeping a frown on his face and not letting slip a small smile. He wouldn't give Francis the pleasure. Bloody frog. He did however look up when their pace slowed down substantially. For some reason Francis had stopped, turning to look into an empty shop window of a closed down building.

"Why have we stopped?" Arthur asked, not with anger but with curiosity.

"Hmm? Ah.." Francis turned to him. Was that a faint blush on his cheeks. "_Desole...C'est juste...Rien..._" He murmured nervously and Arthur raise a brow.

"I would think you'd be a great liar Francis." The Brit teased, looking at the building. It was small, must have been a shop before it closed down. The inside was a mess of dust with electrical wiring sticking out of the walls. "So what is it?"

"Its silly..." Francis answered with a nervous smile, looking to his feet. "It just seems like a nice place to open a bakery..." He continued. Why was he telling the Englishman this? He had yet to tell anyone of his lofty plans. Arthur blinked in surprise.

"A bakery?"

"I've always dreamed of having one..." He answered with an embarrassed little laugh.

"That's not silly."

Francis looked up, the Englishman's serious tone surprising him. He tilted his head in slight confusion and met determined green eyes. "As a matter of fact, I myself have always desired to be tailor." Arthur confessed and his date blinked at him before giving him an encouraging smile.

Why was he talking to Francis like this? He was the bloody horrible perverted frog of a man who tormented him at work! His face reddened slightly and he started to walk away, tugging the Frenchman still holding his hand along. He needed to get home and think. Francis let himself be dragged, imagining Arthur sewing skimpy outfits and wearing them for him. He smirked at the thought, definitely an idea to save for the future.

The future... Did he see a future with Arthur? Earlier no...But now...Now, there was a possibility. Something about the blond made him happy, even though he was quite impossible to deal with. When he smiled though, well...the world seemed brighter to Francis.

Unfortunately, they reached Arthur's small home sooner that he would of liked and the Brit let go of his hand. The short haired blond quickly scurried up the steps, wanting to get home already when Francis' smooth voice stopped him.

"So,_ mon petit chaton_, did you enjoy our date?" He asked hopefully, watching the Englishman stiffen. Arthur paused, had he?

"O-of course not!" he lied, crossing his arms and scowling before turning around to face the Frenchman. "How could I ever enjoy spending time with a frog like you?"

Francis chuckled, his smile never wavering. "You like fairy tales and fantasies,_ non_? Well, in those stories, the frogs turn out to be the princes." He remarked, winking up at the startled Brit. "Well, I shall take my leave now. _Au revoir, _princess!" He called, letting out a teasing laugh before skipping quickly away. Arthur blushed and scowled, turning to his door to unlock it. Bloody french frog.

Did he just call him a princess? Oh he was going to pay come Monday.

* * *

"Francis, your stories too bloody long!" Arthur interrupted, red faced and anger boiling. He still needed to interrogate the Lithuania about his impromptu need for adoption and his damn husband was eating up the time. Francis blinked, glanced over at the clock and inwardly cringed. It was getting late. He looked around the table to find his sons embarrassed and slumped over in defeat, the loud one was still laughing, Toris was smiling nervously and Ivan was sitting up and listening intently. How nice of him!

"Fine. I'll stop here. Do not worry, I'll continue at some point...maybe in less detail." He reassured the table. Alfred and Matthew groaned at the prospect of sitting through all of this again.

"Well, it is g-getting late... We should probably go." Toris said, standing up nervously.

"Hold on. We have yet to discuss important matters." Arthur reminded the brunette who sighed in defeat. He guessed he'd have to talk now. "Alfred, Matthew go show Ivan the upstairs and stay there, alright?" He continued.

"What? Dad! I don't want to show _him_ my room! Can't he like stay outside or something?" That's where the commie deserved to be anyway. He kept glancing at him during the story as if to rub in his embarrassment!

"Alfred! Stop it. Behave yourself for once! You are going to be nice to Ivan and stay with him upstairs until it is time for them to leave. Understand?" Arthur said sternly. He was on the edge, what with his bloody husbands damn story and Alfred's behavior. His fuse was runnin out.

Arthur groaned and grumbled, knowing the look in his fathers eyes meant certain death if he argued. Stupid commie. It was all his damn fault. "Fine." he hissed. "Lets go Ivan." He ordered, stomping up the stairs to show his displeasure. Ivan blinked, standing up from the table and smiling at his hosts before following the American up the stairs. It was unfortunate Alfred's french father could not finish his story, he wanted to know more of the normal courting behaviors of males in America.

From what he could gather the process began with arguing and sexual innuendos, then you went on a 'date' at an eatery and hoped the night ended with laughter or intercourse... Hmm... He still needed to learn more about all this, it was quite intriguing. Perhaps investigating the second floor would yield more answers... He wondered if he was aloud to go into Alfred's parents room, after investigating Alfred's room thoroughly of course.

* * *

Sorry for the wait. Schools a bitch and I took a bunch of APs because I'm an idiot. I'm going to try and update every Sunday... Keyword being try..  
So now we know Papa's and Daddy's first date! XD  
We'll learn more of their beautiful heartwarming romance as the story goes on... Though I'm thinking of writing their story in detail in some companion story.  
My brain keeps coming up with weird *coughpervertedcough* ideas with them...

So next chapter I look forward too because it shall be more humorous than this one.  
It includes: Interrogating Toris, Ivan investigating _everything_ and giving Alfred heart attacks with his questions. So much fun.

Also I hope this chapter was good...Its pretty long... I don't want to disappoint... I mean like almost 100 reviews! That's so scary! And amazing!  
Gah I'm afraid I'm going to like mess up... I'm probably just over reacting lol

See you all hopefully in a week~

Review because I love you...And Papa Francis loves you!  
In fact I'm trying to work up my nerve to write something lemony with him... Maybe reviews will encourage me...  
Just saying~  
No promises yet though...I'm still pretty nervous about it...hehe... Though there WILL be some...at some point...later...

Okay I'm done my rant now. Love you, bye!


	12. Chapter 11

"Frog, clean the table." Arthur ordered, snatching Toris' elbow and hauling him up from the table.

The brunette smiled nervously, feeling the waves of irritation flowing from the Englishman. He _really _didn't want to tell them what had happened back when he visited Russia... Though it didn't look like he had much of a choice now. Resigning to his fate with a sigh, he let himself be dragged to the living room. His eyes flickered toward the stairs hoping Alfred would be alright with Ivan. The boy under his care was very intimidating and frankly there were moments when even Toris found himself frightened of the boy.

Francis rolled his eyes at the order but didn't argue. Arthur was a ticking time bomb and really, his beautiful skin didn't need to be bruised by his husband's antics. He stood up from his chair and hummed a happy tune as he picked up the plates. Matthew also got out of his chair to help him but Papa refused him.

"_Matthieu_, you and Gilbert should go upstairs and make sure they don't hurt each other." He suggested, he didn't like to order and usually Matthew followed whatever he told him. He knew how much Alfred disliked the boy now alone with him, having to hear his loud angry rants. The taller teen also landed his son in the hospital so he was only being cautious. He wasn't as irresponsible as Arthur accused him to be, just more relaxed. Arthur just like to act as if he had something shoved up his ass, which granted he did a lot of the time because of him... And _merde _was it sexy. Maybe after Toris left he could convince Arthur to have sex on the table while wearing that apron...Hmm...

Matthew nodded, and turned to go up the stairs calmly. Of course, Gilbert would have none of that and grabbed his hand, wrenching him up the stairs as if it was the most important thing in the world.

"Gilbert! The hell?" He cried as he snatched his wrist back, rubbing the red mark. Gilbert turned to him with a grin, plopping down on the younger twin's bed. Matthew blinked when he realized they were in his bedroom. Gilbert had dragged him here in under two seconds... pretty impressive.

"Hey Matt~" The albino purred smirking up at him and waggling his eyebrows suggestively. It reminded him of Papa, really the two got along way to well. Matthew blinked at him before blushing a deep red.

"I am NOT doing that...yet." He stated firmly, crossing his arms. Sure Papa talked about sex all the time, and by all the time he really meant _all the time. _("Papa can I ride without the training wheels now?" "Alright, and remember, riding a bike is like riding your partner. You pedal like you would thrust and-" "FRANCIS! What the hell are you teaching him?" "How to ride a bike, _cher_!" "That better be it.") But that didn't mean he would just _do it_ after one date. Though he had known Gilbert for a long time... No, he had morals, morals Dad had woven into him constantly to battle out his Papa's influences.

"Aww...But don't you want to see my five meters?" The albino whined, looking at him with pleading red eyes. And then they shown with mischief and his lips twitched into a smirk, "'cause, they want to see you."

Matthew stared at him a moment, before blushing deeply and glaring at him. "Gil stop it! What do you mean by five meters? Thats physically impossible!" He snapped. Though, in the back of his mind he really wanted to find out, first hand, if that were true... No, he had to be strong.

"Is that your shy way of asking to see it?" Gilbert snickered, he really did love it when Matthew was all flustered and embarrassed, his red cheeks highlighting his pretty blue violet eyes. "And its okay if your small Mattie." He added teasingly.

"I am NOT small! You're just a liar. There's NO WAY you have five meters." He denied angrily, wishing he had x-ray vision to just find out without asking the albino to strip... Though that would be nice...

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt hands groping at _him. _He jumped, startled and looked down to find Gilbert on the floor, crouching in front of him and trying to unbuckle his pants. "Gil! What are you doing?" He shouted, hands shooting out to grab the others and stop the albino from disrobing him. Gilbert pouted up at him when his advances were stopped.

"I just wanna meet Little Mattie." He said innocently, too innocently. Matthew hesitated, mind wandering to where this could possibly lead. Suddenly his prior abstinence seemed to whither. Though he wouldn't go as far as sex. But... maybe just a little fun?

Well it seemed fate decided against him as that moment his door was swung open and Alfred stormed in. Gilbert sprang away quickly, remembering his promise to keep their new relationship a a secret. Which he thought was stupid because he _really_ wanted to tell the world that Matt agreed to have his babies. He had the urge to just shove the American out of the room and, in fact, he was about to when his phone vibrated within his pocket. Annoyed, he pulled it out, moving away from the unfolding scene.

"Ja?"

Alfred, oblivious to his brother's and friend's prior position stomped all the way in angrily. Ivan was a few steps behind him looking innocent enough except for the creepy smile plastered on his face. The Russian glanced around the room, noticing it was more organized than Alfred's, and he could actually see the floor. How nice.

"Mattie! You deal with him! I cant stand his face." Alfred yelled and Matthew rolled his eyes with a sigh. Really, his brother could be so rude.

"Al, you do realize he's right there."

"Yeah! That's part of the problem! He keeps staring at me and whenever I turn around he's right there. And he touched my comics! Why can't you babysit him?"

"I'm hanging out with Gilbert, Al. Look whether you want to admit it or not your his only friend. You should be nicer to him."

"What the hell do you mean? I hate his Russian guts. We're not friends. Not at all!"

"Well you're the only person he talks too, or interacts with at school. So, he's your responsibility."

"Matt?" Gilbert interrupted with a sigh, hanging up his phone. "I got to go...West wants me home since its real late or something unawesome like that."

"Oh..." Matthew murmured, feeling disappointed and more annoyance building up toward his brother for barging in.

"'Kay, see ya Gil." Alfred waved goodbye, still not reading the atmosphere. Matthew didn't understand how his twin could be so clueless sometimes.

Gilbert gave a grin and waved at them both, fighting of the urge to make out with Matthew before he left. And then give his brother the finger for interrupting them. Stupid promise. He quickly left the room, not wanting to react on instinct or something.

"Anyways, now you can handle Ivan." Alfred grinned in triumph, hands on his hips in his hero/winner pose. Matthew sighed and rolled his eyes before realizing a missing presence in the room.

"Where is Ivan?" He asked aloud, brows furrowed in confusion. He had been right behind Alfred only a few moments ago... The elder twin turned around and notice the empty space and frowned, scratching his head. Matthew assumed it was to try and kick start his brain or something.

"How could we have lost him? He's freaking massive." Alfred finally spoke, stepping into the hallway and moving towards his own room. It was empty. Matthew stepped into the hallway too, glancing around for the Russian. He padded over to the guest room, the room also empty. He stepped out and glanced in front of him, where the master bedroom door was. Where the master bedroom door was slightly _ajar._

"Shit... Al!" he called, slight panic rising in him at the thought of a fellow student braving the horrors of that room. Alfred stepped out of his room and walked over quickly to his brother's side.

"What?" He asked, he needed to find the damn commie before Dad got pissed at him.

"I think I know where Ivan went..."

"Where?" His brother lifted his arm and pointed his index finger straight ahead. Alfred turned around slowly, following the finger with his gaze. He shivered as his eyes met the large white door, opened only a bit but enough. Despair sank into the pit of his stomach.

"Oh God no."

Matthew swallowed nervously and pushed his brother's shoulder, nudging him toward the door. "Well Alfred, you better go get him."

"What? I refuse to go into that room! You do it!" He countered, moving away from his brother's push, glancing back at the door hesitantly.

"You're going to make your innocent little brother go in there? I thought you were a hero Al..." Matthew whimpered, eyes big and lips pouty. Alfred glared at him, he hated when his twin pulled that stupid face, with those stupid eyes and that stupid voice. It always worked.

"Damn it fine! I'll go in." He muttered, not seeing Matthew's smirk of victory as he turned toward the foreboding door. "Damn commie, its always his fault."

* * *

Ivan had lost interest in the argument the twins were having. At first he had felt a bubbling anger to the younger twin for capturing the American's attention with angry words. Alfred was suppose to fight with him, not Matthew. It didn't help the argument was about how Alfred didn't want to be near him.

It wasn't as if the fact was surprising. He knew many people found him unapproachable or frightening. It was all for the better anyway, other people only brought misery. But Alfred was different... He felt his chest tighten slightly as Alfred continued to argue vehemently about his hatred toward him. So he had left.

It wasn't interesting. What was interesting was learning more about the courting behaviors of two males. Alfred's french father seemed to be an expert in the field, then again he was the only one he knew to have courted another male. It didn't matter, more information on the subject would probably be found in his room.

Ivan padded through the hall, glancing at the five doors. One was Alfred's room, the one behind him Matthew's. He opened the next and found it was a bathroom. He continued on and glanced into another bedroom, neat and clean. He didn't think this was the one... He turned around and looked at the clean white door, closed. Hmmm...

The Russian walked toward it, turning the handle and pushing the door so it swung inwards. How odd, all the other doors swung out. (Ivan wouldn't know it was so Arthur would have a harder time escaping when Francis wanted to try something new in the bedroom). He stepped into the larger room and pushed the door back not bothering if it actually closed. He was too fascinated at the _size _of the bed in the room.

Hesitantly, almost in awe, he stepped toward the bed letting his hand slide along the silky covers. So soft! What luxury... Or maybe this was normal in America? He turned his gaze to the two nightstands. The one on the right looked normal enough, a lamp, a clock and a novel sat upon it. Violet eyes turned to the one on the other side and blinked at the strange bottle sitting upon it. He made his way around the huge bed in order to examine it clearer.

He picked up the pink bottle and peered at it curiously. _Rose Scented Lube._ Lube? Wasn't that for making things slippery? Why was it in the bedroom? He put the bottle down and opened the first drawer finding handcuffs. He furrowed his brows in confusion. Americans were very odd.

He closed the drawer and looked around, seeing two more doors in the room. He made his way over to them, opening the first to see it was another bathroom. He closed it and opened the next one. What a large closet, he could actually walk into it. He quickly did so, eyes wide in childlike fascination as his fingers swept through all the clothes. Most of them looked like normal men's clothing, though some seemed more expensive than others. Then he reached the back of the closet.

Odd outfits hung here. One reminded him of a pirate he'd seen in a children's book except the clothing didn't cover much. In fact it seemed to expose more than clothe... Wasn't that counter intuitive? There were more outfits that were similar, some made of leather. It didn't make sense to him, he needed more information. The findings in the master bedroom had only left him more confused. He pouted in defeat, glancing to his feet when his eyes spotted a large box. He blinked and crouched down, pulling it out from its hidden position...

He opened it and his eyes widened in curiosity and surprise.

* * *

Alfred gritted his teeth as he opened the door and glanced inside the forbidden room. This was so not cool. He hated his parent's room and vowed long ago to NEVER ever step into it again. He shivered at the memory of his stupid 11 year old self, who innocently ventured inside to find Dad wearing a very embarrassing outfit. "Stop thinking about it!" He growled under his breath and stepped inside. Darting his eyes around he tried to spot the Freak but found the room oddly empty.

So he came in here for nothing? Damn it. Then his eyes caught the open closet door. Did life really hate him so much? Did he really deserve to be tormented by a giant communist who made him go into the most perverted place in the entire house? Fuck his life.

Eyes glued to the floor so as not to see anything disturbing, he padded over to the door with hurried steps. His eyes finally looked up when he stood at the doorway, still hesitant about actually going inside. His blue eyes fell onto the Russian, calmly sitting cross legged on the floor. Alfred blinked once, twice as he tried to process the image before him.

Then he started screaming.

Ivan sat there, surrounded by...by _toys._The bad kind. The nasty kind! The Russian was reading one of his Papa's pornographic magazines intensely. And in his other hand he held..._oh god was that a vibrator? _Alfred's brain momentarily shut down, not able to accept that this was real, though he kept screaming. He felt a hand press against his mouth, muffling his cries and he tensed up.

"Why are you screaming?" Ivan asked, perplexed at the other blond's reaction. Alfred realized Ivan's hand was covering his mouth. The same hand that only moments ago was holding..._that._ He thrashed around violently, freeing himself. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, spitting out in a panic.

"Damn it! Don't touch me with that hand! Do you have any idea what kind of evil substances could be lingering on it!"

Ivan tilted his head in confusion, Alfred was so odd. Though he did seem adorable with that flustered look. He didn't have time to understand the others reaction though, he wanted to learn more. The magazines were very informative, explaining in great detail what each thing was for. He now knew why they had lube in the bedroom and the need for handcuffs. It was all quite fascinating really. He had never learned of such things, like cock rings or vibrators. It made him want to try these things out himself.

Since he and Alfred fought so much, did that mean he could try it with him? All he needed was to buy him dinner right? Maybe he should read more... He leaned back down to grab the magazine and read some more about vibrators.

"The HELL are you doing!" Alfred squeaked in utter shock as Ivan picked up the damn _thing_ again! The fuck was he doing with his parents..._things! _God, he felt like throwing up.

"Hmm? Learning." Ivan answered simply, closing and putting the magazine down to further inspect the device in his hand. It said there was a switch near the base...ah ha! He flicked it on, feeling the thing begin to tremble violently in his hand. Fascinating. So this went inside the bottoming male in order to pleasure him? He wondered if Alfred would enjoy that... He gave the blue eyed teen a smirk.

Alfred stared at...at _it_ with utter horror before wrenching it from the freak's hand, shutting it off and throwing it away violently.

Ivan frowned at him, annoyed at being interrupted as he was learning.

"What the FUCK is wrong with you? Holy shit man! You dont just go... go sneaking through all my parent's nasty _things!"_Alfred cried out in disbelief, not sure how to handle such a situation.

"I was merely trying to learn more about the courting behaviors between males." Ivan simply stated. What was so odd about what he was doing?

"Don't act as if you didn't know what all this was!...Oh god...No, you cant be that innocent!" Alfred responded, heart beating erratically. He needed to get out of this room. But he couldn't leave it in such a mess. He glared up at violent eyes that suddenly seemed darker and distant.

"You are wrong Alfred. I am anything but innocent"

Alfred blinked, the statement confusing him. What was the commie talking about? He shook the thought away. He needed to handle the situation at hand.

"Whatever! J-just help me put all this-this _stuff_ away before my parents see!" he ordered, his face red in mortification as he grabbed the offending items and all but threw them at the open box. Ivan blinked but followed the order much more calmly. Carefully putting back the sexual toys the same way he had found them. He didn't understand what the big deal was.

Once done Alfred grabbed the larger teen's wrist angrily, running out of the the room hurriedly, passing a worried Mattie and shoving the Russian into the bathroom.

"Wash your hands!" Alfred commanded, twisting the knobs quickly before thrusting his own hands into the water. He grabbed the soap and scrubbed away at whatever imaginary microbes now trying to infect him. He didn't want to even _think _about what the hell Ivan was trying to do back there. He felt sick, God he had just touched his Dad's vibrator! He wanted to throw up, his stomach twisting in revulsion. Stop thinking about it!

Ivan's mind was also working rapidly, but with excitement instead of panic. He washed his hands calmly as he stored away all the information he had learned from the experience. He knew how males had sex, he knew what doggy style was, he knew the toys one could use in order to derive more sexual pleasure from the act.

He also knew he would like to try it himself.

And he knew that Alfred was the only person he was close enough (as in actually spoke with him) to actually do it with.

The question was how to convince him.

* * *

Arthur shoved -politely of course- Toris onto the couch before sitting down on the armchair next to it. He could hear the quiet clatter of plates as Francis put everything away. He saw Gilbert storming up the steps, dragging his son along with him. Couldn't he have any peace in this house?

Toris twitched nervously, playing with the sleeve of his long shirt. He bit his lip, maybe Ivan and Alfred would hurt each other and they'd have to rush to the hospital. Therefore he'd be able to get away again. Wait, what a horrible thought! But he still didn't want to tell them. He felt more self conscious, feeling the scrutinizing green glare boring into him. He looked at the carpet, as if it would answer his pleas.

"Sh-shouldn't we wait for your husband?" He asked meekly, anything to delay what was coming.

"I can hear from here!" The Frenchman called from the kitchen, piling the dishes into the dishwasher. Toris cursed himself mentally, letting out a long defeated sigh.

"Alright," He acquiesced, brown eyes glancing to the serious Brit. "Wh-what do you want to know?"

"Why did you adopt so suddenly?" Arthur questioned, eyes narrowed as he tried searching for an answer on the others face. He had many more questions to ask but that was one of the more important ones. He saw the pale face redden slightly, brown eyes focused on the floor once more.

"I- I met a girl...When I visited Russia..." He began, his fingers twitching in apprehension. "H-her name was Katyusha and when I first saw her she was sobbing in an alley... So I went over to her to see if something was wrong. And, well, she started apologizing hurriedly before straightening up. This was during the evening too. Anyway, she straightened up and asked if...if I wanted any of her services" Toris blushed further, rubbing at the back of his head awkwardly. "Sh-she was a prostitute. I refused but offered to give her some money anyway and she then refused. S-so I asked her how much for the night and I paid that, except I made her just go to a cafe with me.

"I asked her why she was crying and she told me that she was sorry again and that it was only a little breakdown. I felt bad, I wanted to know more about her. All I could find out though was that she was also a waitress during the day and still couldn't get by. She was such a nice girl, so sweet but so very sad. S-so I started visiting her more and then one day she asked me what year it was. See, she can barely read, she barely had any schooling.

"And when I told her, she started counting on her fingers, then she started bawling. I was so confused, I thought I had done something wrong. I had never seen her so upset. I-I asked her if I did something wrong and she started apologizing again and finally I told her to tell me what happened. And she did." Toris took in a shaky breath, feeling the words tumble out. He hadn't even told Ivan the story. His sister had specifically told him not to tell the Russian about her situation.

Arthur listened carefully, absorbing everything. He waited for Toris to regain his breath in order to continue the story. Francis had finished in the kitchen, coming over to the living room to better hear the conversation. He could feel the tense atmosphere and so he stopped himself from sitting on his husbands lap, or moving him onto his own and instead sat on the arm of the chair. Green eyes glanced up at blue and sighed.

Arthur knew what the bloody frog wanted. Bloody hell. He wanted to hear the rest of the story with no more disruptions so it would be best to give the Frenchman what he wanted before he complained and whined. Or at least that's what he told himself. With a frown he moved over, letting the smiling blond slide into the chair and pull him onto his lap. Arthur squirmed slightly, leaning back in order to get comfortable. Francis wrapped his arms securely around his husband's waist, he loved how Arthur seemed to just fit perfectly with him and the warmth that exuded from him filled him to the brim with happiness He resisted the urge to do dirty things, knowing the Brit would get mad. It would just have to wait until tonight.

"She told me that she was an orphan along with her two younger siblings. Their mother had died giving birth to her little sister and her father had died when she was fourteen. They were put into this very poor orphanage and she did her best to help her younger brother and sister. But, when she turned 17 she was kicked out, one of the rules of the orphanage. She didn't know what to do or how to get money. She tried waitressing but she couldn't survive on it alone and so she started... you know. She hates it.

"The worst thing is she hasn't seen her siblings since. S-so when I told her the year she started counting on her fingers and realized that her little brother would be turning seventeen in a year. Thats why she was sobbing, she was wooried about what would happen when her brother was kicked out." Toris continued, not minding his listeners' new position. He had known them a very long time and was used to this sort of behavior.

He was going to begin again when he heard quick footsteps down the stairs. Gilbert came through the family room and grinned up at them. Francis could tell it was forced, maybe something happened with little _Mathieu_?

"_Danke _for the dinner but I gotta go! Good to see ya, Toris!" He called, before leaving them to whatever they were doing. Toris waited a few more moments, making sure that the other was really gone. Then he began again.

"So, I offered to adopt him." He said simply. "I mean, I have an extra room and its lonely in the house without Eduard and Raivis. And I was leaving soon so it just kind of came out. You should of seen the way she looked at me, how her eyes lit up and... And there was hope in them, hope I bet had died a long time ago. So, I had to do it. I just had to. She hugged me so tightly that day, kissing my face and it was the first time I heard her laugh from happiness. Sh-she wrote a letter, with my help because she has a lot of trouble writing and reading, to her brother telling him to go with me.

"I went to the orphanage and it really was a horrible place. I can't imagine how they could treat children like that. They littered the halls, some were on the verge of death. It was horrendous. The staff was short and disorganized. Apparently, the owner had died recently and they were in a frenzy. Anyway, when I said I wanted to adopt an Ivan Braginsky they were very excited and I adopted him the very same day. It was so weird. Ivan only agreed because of the letter and we came here... That's what happened." he finished, glancing back up at the couple, listening carefully.

"I see..." Arthur murmured trying to formulate his thoughts. "I understand why you would adopt him... But are you ready to raise a child? Especially a teenager. It's a huge commitment." He continued, worried about his long time friend. To him Toris was still the sweet teenager who would always babysit when the needed him. They grow up so very fast... He hated the thought of Alfred or Matthew growing up and leaving him with just the frog.

"I know... But please dont worry. Ivan he's...different but he's a...nice boy and I think I can handle him..." He reassured thought it didn't sound very convincing. Arthur frowned, wanting to ask more when a scream pierced through the silence. He jumped on Francis' lap, startled by the sudden sound, especially as it continued. It sounded like Alfred.

Arthur stood up quickly, worry evident on his face. "Alfred! Whats going on up there?" He called up.

"Nothing Dad! Everything's fine! Uh...He's watching a scary movie! That's all!" Matthew shouted down the stairs quickly. The boy glanced at the open master bedroom door as his brother's screams stopped. He hoped he was ok...But he still didn't want to venture in such tainted territory. If they didn't come out soon then he'd go in.

Arthur sighed, rolling his eyes, really his son had no tolerance for frightening movies. He returned to the armchair, settling down on the comfortable lap, hiding how he enjoyed it when Francis nuzzled into his neck and pulled him closer.

"Anyway, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't tell Ivan about his sister... Katyusha doesn't want him to know about her...occupation or her current circumstances. And please don't tell Alfred, his secret keeping skills are not the best." Toris continued, looking imploringly at the blond couple.

"Of course Toris. And if you ever need any help, you know how to reach us." Arthur replied easily, trying to reassure the brunette. Toris nodded with a smile, feeling better after telling the story. It had been weighing down on his heart for a long time.

"Thank you. I think it best we go, it is very late." He said and Arthur nodded, standing from the lap to follow him up the stairs in order to retrieve his ward. Francis followed behind, enjoying the view of his husband's delicious ass.

They found the pair in the bathroom, with Alfred scrubbing angrily at Ivan's hands while the other stared at him, eyes distant in thought. Arthur blinked and wondered why his son was being so hygenic...He usually was quite the slob. And weren't they suppose to be watching a movie? Well, it didn't matter at the moment.

"Alfred, its time for Ivan to go." Arthur spoke as blue eyes looked up.

"Finally!" Alfred let out with such relief and Arthur glared at him disapprovingly.

"Alfred!" He warned and blue eyes looked down at the counter with a pout at being scolded for the fifteenth time that evening. Ivan blinked and kept smiling, ignoring the weird feeling in his stomach at seeing such enormous happiness in Alfred due to his departure.

"Da, it is late" He responded, drying his wet, slightly pruning (How long had Alfred been washing his hands? It didn't really matter, the others hands were so soft and warm against his own...) hands on one of the towels. He went to follow the adults out of the bathroom before stopping and glancing back at Alfred, his piercing violet eyes landing on sky blue ones.

"I shall see you again come Monday, Alfred. And I hope you are ready for Wednesday's test, I surely am." He called back, smirking at the flustered face. Alfred didn't even know why he was reddening. Probably those stupid violet eyes.

"O-of course I'm ready! I'm going to blow your mind come Wednesday afternoon!" He shot back, grinning as he exuded confidence. Ivan blinked, noticing the adults had already gone back downstairs. Time to try out his new knowledge acquired from the evening.

"I'd prefer it if you were blowing something else." He whispered as he leaned forward, smirking darkly and he giggled when Alfred blushed profusely.

"THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!" Alfred yelled out in outrage only to find Ivan already gone. The blond stormed back downstairs but he was too late. Damn the stupid commie and his freaky speed. He was just going to push that damn creepy incident in the closet to the back of his mind. He had bigger things to worry about. "MATTIE! You need to help me study!" He yelled and heard his brother groan, coming out of his room annoyed.

"Don't you dare try and get out of it. I had to go into Papa's and Dad's room. You have no idea the horrors I saw!" He yelled, mood darkening and Matthew sighed, acquiescing. He went back to his room, his brother following him. It was going to be a long night. And he had been hoping to call Gilbert...

Downstairs, Arthur was mulling over the details he had now acquired. Ignoring Francis' arms wrapped around his waist, the light kisses trailing down his neck. With a harsh nip to a sensitive spot, he finally tried to squirm from the grip.

"Francis, you've been way to perverted tonight." Arthur growled, still annoyed about all the grief the man had given him because of the damn story.

"But I behaved afterward~" He whined, nuzzling into the messy blond hair. "I should get a treat."

Arthur tried to hide his smile with a scowl. "You embarrassed me with that story."

"But I love that story Arthur! Its so sad I was not able to tell of our first night together, your birthday and our first valentines day! I still have that sonnet you wrote me."

Arthur blushed furiously at the memory, constantly regretting giving the frog the damn thing.

"We've made such wonderful memories together, _mon amour_." Francis continued, hands slipping underneath the others shirt, pushing it up to reveal smooth pale skin. Well, almost smooth skin. His fingers brushed against the long scar on his husband's side, causing the Brit to shiver. Francis frowned, rubbing the scar apologetically. "Now that story...That story I dont very much like..." He whispered sadly, eyes looking back to _that night_.

Arthur tensed slightly, not wanting to relive the stupid memory. He turned around quickly, staying in the Frenchman's warm embrace. He wrapped his arms around the others neck, pulling him into a deep kiss. Green eyes glittered as he thought of a distraction.

"Its over, all in the past. Now...You were saying something about receiving a treat? In my opinion, I'm the one who deserves a reward for putting up with your horrible perverted behavior." He remarked, lips woven into a smirk. Blue eyes glanced down at him and grinned.

"I'm so very sorry, let me repay you for your troubles tenfold." Francis cooed, picking up the Englishman with relative ease as he ascended the stairs. It earned him playful punches to the chest and half halfhearted complaints about how the other could walk perfectly fine.

All Francis could focus on was that it was a Saturday night, which meant the boys didn't actually _need_ to sleep well. He was going to make Arthur scream in utter pleasure. The Frenchman smirked darkly, the plan for tonight forming graphically in his dirty mind.

* * *

My spoiled little readers, getting their chapter two days early~  
I had an early dismissal today and just felt like writing so voila!  
I hope you enjoy

Next Chapter is the school test!

Love you all Review


	13. Chapter 12

RATING CHANGED TO M  
Don't get your hopes up, nothing lemony or fun in this chapter.  
Rating changed because Alfred has a dirty mouth and I didn't want to get in trouble with the ratings.  
Anyways... Enjoy the chapter.

* * *

The bus journeyed through the busy streets at a leisurely pace, bouncing occasionally due to shallow potholes. Alfred was sitting next to his brother for once, instead of Kiku. Well sitting wasn't the right word. He was laying sideways on the seat, head in his brother's lap. Oblivious to the world as he slept peacefully. Matthew sighed, a small smile twinging on his lips as he stared down at his exhausted brother.

"What is wrong with Alfred-kun? He usually is so hyper in the morning." Kiku asked, peering over from the seat in front of the twins. "But these past few days he has been quite tired..."

"He's been studying really hard for his U.S History test today." Matthew answered, smiling proudly that his brother had finally decided to put some effort into his school work.

"Really? That is so unlike Alfred-kun..."

"He made a bet with Ivan. Told him he would get a higher score than him on the test." The twin explained, trying to keep his brother asleep as the bus hit a bump and they were all jostled. He needed his rest. Good thing the test was after lunch, the best time for Alfred to think. Right after the consumption of food.

"Well, I wish Alfred-kun the best of luck on the test." Kiku stated with a small smile before settling back into his seat and pulling out his cellphone. Heracles was texting him...He smiled fondly before typing back his responses.

Matthew also hoped his brother would get a good grade. Maybe then he would actually try in school. Ever since... Matthew bit his lip looking away, not wanting to think about that horrid time. Ever since _then_ Alfred had lost total faith in the school system, even if this school was much better. He sighed and stroked his brother's hair lazily. Maybe...Maybe this rivalry with Ivan was a good thing, as long as it didn't end in the hospital. If it got Alfred to work hard in school because of his stubborn pride then he was all for it.

He noticed the school coming up in the distance, soon he'd have to wake his brother up. Apparently, the bus wanted to save him the trouble as it hit a nasty pothole. The vehicle jumped and Alfred groaned, turning over sleepily.

"Stupid Ivan...the industrial revolution started in 1733... don't hurt the pancakes Mattie" He mumbled as he burrowed his face in the comfy lap. Matthew rolled his eyes and started to shake his brother back to consciousness. He must have pulled an all-nighter.

"gah. WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?" Alfred finally shouted, getting sick of being shaken up as he sat up grumpily.

"Time for school Al."

"Oh..." Alfred yawned, rubbing at his eyes. Right, today was the day. He was going to ace this test. He was obviously inherently smarter than the commie so it wasn't as if there had ever been any doubt. Still, he had studied the entire week! Every single night he had prepared. Never had he ever studied so much for a test. There was just no possible way he could lose.

The vehicle came to a stop and the twins stood up quickly. The American followed his twin off the bus and into the school.

"Don't worry, Al. You're going to do great." Matthew encouraged with a soft smile. Alfred grinned up at him and gave him a thumbs up.

"Quiz me at lunch, k?"

"Sure thing bro." Matthew responded and turned away as Alfred left for his first class. He, himself, was about to go off to Geometry when hands encircled his waist and he was trapped in an aggressive hug.

"How's my cute little boyfriend today?"

Matthew laughed, trying to escape the hold with half halfhearted squirms. "Gil, let me go." He demanded softly, feeling the hug tighten before releasing all of a sudden. The blond turned around, facing a grinning albino who soon leaned forward to plant a kiss on his lips.

"Are you ready for the quiz today?" Matthew asked when he pulled away and watched the albino pale even more than usual.

"eh...quiz?" Gilbert tilted his head in slight confusion and Matthew sighed.

"The quiz in Geometry? Which we have in like 5 minutes? The one she's been reminding us about for the past 3 days?"

Gilbert blinked in confusion. "Matt, I don't pay attention to Geometry. You know what I do instead."

"Really Gilbert, you need to stop doodling all over your paper about how awesome you are or inappropriate stick figures. I know the one with the hair curl is me! And I don't approve what you do to him!"

The albino chuckled, because really, Matt was just too adorable when he was irritated and trying to be serious. He couldn't help but want to pull him in his arms and make out with him. He was practically irresistible. But, he felt bad for his poor little boyfriend. He must have a ton of self control to not be jumping his awesomness. Oh shit he was still talking.

"-pecially when you drew that stick figure of me, on my homework to be handed in, with the caption 'Please awesome one, fuck my brains out'!"

"I thought you liked my awesome love comments in your notes." Gilbert reminded, enjoying how Matthew flushed slightly. He really hoped that their teacher wouldn't look at his binder since every page had comments ranging from 'you know you want to be fucked by my five meters' to 'I love you Mattie! You're almost as awesome as me!' Really, Gilbert could be endearing. But he was also very embarrassing. Sadly, most of the time he was too caught up on himself to realize the stupid things he'd say.

The bell rang obnoxiously and Matthew, ever the good student, grabbed his boyfriend's wrist before running to their first period. He refused to be late to any class. Gilbert didn't mind though, Matthew's hand was soft and warm and it fit perfectly in his own. He wished he could never let go.

* * *

Alfred was grinning as he answered the final question. There. Done. That test was pretty easy, usually he would blank out after the first question. Yet, this time he knew most of the answers! And if he didn't, he knew a pretty good guess. He was totally going to get a 100 and Ivan was probably going to get a -78. The commie was most likely ignoring all the questions in order to write anti capitalistic propaganda!

He glanced at his wrist watch and his sky blue eyes widened. Was his watch right? He looked up to the clock hanging on the classroom wall, staring at the the hands ticking way as he tried to remember how to read it. With a quite "Ah ha" he deduced that yes, his watch was correct and he had finished hist test 10 minutes early. Usually, he finished 5 minutes late...

What was it teachers always yacked about if you finished your test early? Oh right, check your answers. Alfred shrugged and flipped back to the first page to skim his awesome responses. Pure absolute brilliance. He just needed to add a few commas here and there but, otherwise, it was perfection. The commie stood absolutely no chance. The hero always wins.

Alfred had worked way to hard to loose to the bastard.

Speaking of the bastard, Alfred turned his gaze to his left where Ivan was still working. The Russian was focused on his paper, writing down his sentences carefully and deliberately. His lips were moving silently, as if mouthing the words that he was attempting to write. The commie must be having a lot of trouble.

Didn't the teacher say something about his English? Did Ivan have trouble writing in the language? It couldn't be that hard, Alfred was fairly good at writing Spanish. All you had to do was sound it out. The commie was probably just stupid. Alfred was definitely going to win this bet.

Still, a small part of him felt sorry for the Russian. Maybe Mattie was right and he was Ivan's only friend... Thinking of the creep as a friend made him shiver down his spine. Ivan was just so...weird.  
Whatever, Ivan was going to lose and have to bow down to his superior knowledge.

* * *

A 91. Holy shit. He had actually gotten a 91. Never in his academic career had he so much but breached the 80s and here he was holding a 91. The teacher had even smiled at him when she had handed the test to him. He felt so giddy, so absolutely happy that he couldn't help but grin brighter. A freaking 91! Why couldn't the teacher give Ivan his test back already so he could rub it in his pathetic face? He couldn't way to tell Mattie!

Finally, the teacher handed Ivan his test back, whispering something in his ear. Probably how he had failed so bad that they were going to have to deport him back to Russia.

"Well Alfred?" Ivan questioned turning to him with amused violet eyes.

"A fucking 91! Ha!" He snapped shoving his paper in his face. He wondered if he could get Ivan to cry... Man he would kill for a picture of that.

"Very nice Alfred, but I received a 95."

And Alfred's world crumbled around him.

"What?"

"I scored a 95 out of a 100." Ivan clarified easily.

No. No. No. NO. NO! **NO!** He had studied every single fucking night, for three fucking hours, worked til his fucking brain was fucking numb and for nothing? Alfred snatched the others test and scanned it, his hands trembling as he saw that indeed, he had received a 95.

If Ivan had gotten a 92 he could of called for a rematch. Could of said it was fluke. But Ivan had scored 4 fucking points above him and he suddenly felt like shit. He shoved the test back into the damn freak's hands, stuffing his own stupid test in his binder. He didn't wait for the bell to ring, even though it rang only moments later, he just left.

His eyes were cold and his lips were in a thin line. He was no longer smiling. How could this have happened? He didn't understand. He had worked so hard! It wasn't fair! It was never fair! This was why he didn't try in school. No matter how hard he worked he still couldn't get the best grade. A 91 could of been a 67. The only difference being he could of actually slept more than 4 hours in the past week.

"Alfred!" Matthew called for the third time, trying to grasp his brothers attention. For some reason the American was acting even more oblivious than usual. Finally, he reached the others side and was able to wrap a hand around his wrist, making him stop. Alfred lifted his sullen gaze and, once he realized it was just his brother, let it fall back down.

"Alfred whats wrong?"

"I got a 91."

"That's great Al!" Matthew cried, lips forming into a smile. Had his brother ever gotten such a high grade?

"No, its not." Alfred hissed back, pulling away from the others grip. "The fucking commie got a 95. Just leave me alone ok? I have to get to whatever fucking class I need to be in."

Matthew stared at him in disbelief as his brother sulked away. He had never heard his brother use such a defeated hopeless tone. So he didn't beat Ivan, but he had gotten a 91! Surely that was something to celebrate? Hopefully, his twin only needed to calm down and then he'd be better. Though, when grades were in question, Alfred didn't usually perk up easily. In fact there were some times when he feared his elder twin would spiral down into depression over them.

Not because of the grade itself, but because of Dad's harsh words when he saw them.

He hoped this wouldn't be like one of those times.

* * *

It was one of those times.

Alfred refused to speak to him, not from anger anymore. Poorly hidden sadness seeped from his every form, creating a palpable dark barrier between him and the world. He was silent throughout the bus ride home and that truly meant something. Alfred never stopped talking, not even when he ate. Matthew sighed awkwardly, sitting beside his brother because Kiku was off to one of his many extracurricular activities.

The younger twin kept sending glances to the blond nervously, anxiously. Alfred never noticed, his gaze focused on the passing scenery outside his window. Though, his eyes remained unfocused, showing that his brother was deep in thought, something that rarely happened. He was also frowning. Not an exaggerated frown to prove his annoyance nor a whiny pout. Just a simple quirk of the lips downward, and that along with the far off blue gaze was the saddest expression he had ever seen on his brother's face.

Matthew frowned, looking away. Alfred should be happy. He had worked so hard and received a wonderful grade but Ivan had ruined it. He had stolen his brother's rightfully earned happiness. The blond suddenly felt a surge of hatred for the Russian, one he had never felt before. He quickly shook it away, he was not like Alfred, he would not let emotions reign him. Ivan worked hard too and he probably deserved the grade.

Still, Matthew hated seeing his brother so sad.

The bus came to an abrupt halt and the two stood up and walked down the aisle silently. They stepped off the vehicle and onto the sidewalk, watching the bus leave them behind. Alfred stuck his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground before beginning to walk to their home down the street. Matthew was getting tired of it.

"Alfred..." He mumbled lamely, coming up to walk beside him.

"I don't want to talk about it, Matthew." Alfred hissed, but not with energetic anger or mild annoyance, it sounded more like a defeated sigh. And Alfred _never_ called him Matthew.

"Al, please don't be like this."

"I said I don't want to talk about it." He reiterated, slightly more emotional, his hands fisting in his pockets in order to control himself.

"Do you want to go play catch?" Matthew asked. Whenever Alfred wanted to talk he made his brother go play catch with him no matter the time. After a few passes Alfred would just open up and Matthew would listen patiently and make sure his brother didn't get too emotional. The American had quite the arm when he was angry, Matthew had the bruises to prove it.

"No." Alfred said simply, his step hurrying slightly. Matthew was forced to make quicker strides in order to keep up with him. Alfred never said no to catch, it was just one of the little things the brothers always did together. Matthew tried one last tactic.

"Please Alfie, I hate it when you're sad." Matthew murmured softly, using the nickname that his twin always responded to. Alfred's footsteps halted and he stood their shaking.

"I don't want to." He whispered, pleaded. His shields were deteriorating around him and his was left vulnerable to his younger brother's worried gaze. His voice was dripping with emotion, forcing it to crack slightly. He shoulders trembled lightly and Matthew knew his brother was done hiding. He responded like he always did when Alfred was particularly depressed.

Matthew stepped forward and wrapped comforting arms around his shaking brother. Alfred melted into the embrace taking in a shaky breath and pulling the other close. The elder pressed his face in his brother's shirt feeling tears fall from his stinging eyes. He couldn't believe he was fucking crying, especially because of the fucking commie and all this fucking shit he keeps ruining.

"Alfred its ok." Matthew whispered soothingly, feeling his brothers face shake negatively.

"N-no its not. H-he- I worked so hard Mattie! And it never works out. Never. No matter how hard I try it just never works out. I hate school so much." He hissed as he drew in loud shaky breaths. "I-I just wanted this o-one time to be di-different. To pr-prove I'm not the stupid one everyone s-says I am. B-but I g-guess I really am." He muttered miserably and felt his brothers grip tighten.

"You're not stupid Al. You're not stupid at all! So what if Ivan got a 95? It was one test! And look you got a 91! Why can't you be happy about that?" Matthew asked desperately.

"I j-just can't. Its his fault. He ruins everything Mattie! I hate him. I hate him so much." Alfred vented, griping his brother's dampening t-shirt angrily. It was all his fault, always his fault.

"Come on Al... What if I made you some pancakes? Would that cheer you up?" he asked pulling away and Alfred sighed.

"I don't know" He murmured, wiping his red eyes with his sleeve. Not even food was brightening his mood. Matthew bit his lip... He needed to think of something that would really cheer him up.

* * *

Alfred was watching TV listlessly in the family room, body sprawled out and sad frown still in place. Matthew watched him as he flipped the pancakes on his pan. Hopefully, Dad would be home soon and his plan could be put into action. Setting down the third pancake onto the plate, he drizzled the maple syrup onto the fluffy discs before giving them to his brother who offered him a strained smile in return.

Matthew hurried away and went to the trash by the kitchen, grabbing Alfred's test that he had crumpled and thrown away earlier. He unfolded it, using the edge of the counter to better straighten it. As he did so he heard the door open and their father announce that he was home. Alfred didn't reply but Matthew gave a soft hello.

Arthur came into the kitchen nodding at his son before heading for the tea kettle. Matthew pushed the test slightly on the counter in order to give Arthur a better view of it without being blunt about it. Arthur didn't notice as he put water on the stove to boil.

"How was your day Matthew?" Arthur asked like usual and Matthew felt annoyed that he still had not seen the papers.

"Fine I guess..." he answered, fingers drumming smoothly on the sheets. Finally, greens eyes glanced down and took notice.

"Oh you had a test? A 91? Good job, Matthew." He praised calmly, it wasn't as if it was a surprise. Matthew had straight As in every class. He was so responsible. Unlike his brother who didn't seem to care about his grades at all. No matter how much he tried to make him.

"Actually, it's Alfred's" Matthew clarified and waited.

The reaction was immediate.

Arthur's tired green eyes lit up while widening and his hands lept for the papers, grabbing them quickly. He looked at the first page for confirmation and found his elder son's name scrawled at the top. It was Alfred's.

"H-he got a 91?" Arthur breathed in disbelief, looking to Matthew who merely nodded with a smile. Arthur ran out of the room and entered the living room. He found Alfred sprawled out on the couch with a half eaten plate of pancakes sitting beside him abandoned.

"Alfred! Alfred, you got a 91!" Arthur exclaimed shoving the papers in his son's face who pushed it away.

"Um...Y-yeah I did." Alfred answered sheepishly. He forgot about what his parents would think. Never even thought about how Dad might actually be proud of him for once... Dad never praised him, only scolded him. He wasn't sure how to react. Though, he felt a sort of warmth bubbling in his stomach from his father's approval. Maybe it was ok to lose to Ivan...Maybe Dad would stop being so mean about his grades... The thought made him feel better, warmth slowly seeping back into his cold being.

"You didn't cheat did you?" Arthur asked suddenly, his voice now skeptic as his disbelief settled.

The warm feeling disappeared as abruptly as it came. Did his father really think that poorly of him? Was he really that stupid that a 91 was so preposterous the only way to accept it was from cheating? Alfred began to feel anger build inside him. He had worked his ass of to try and get a good grade. Not only had he lost to the damn commie now his father was accusing him of dishonesty over it. Didn't he notice how hard he was trying? Studying every single fucking night for hours?

"I can't believe you! Damn it! Am I that much of a disappointment that you can't even image me getting a good grade without accusing me of cheating?" Alfred cried out causing his father to take a step back from his outburst. "Well I don't need it right now alright? Just leave me alone and keep your disappointments to yourself!" He spat, storming away and stomping up the stairs.

Arthur blinked in confusion and cringed as he heard the door slam from upstairs. What had that been about? Teenage hormones? And now Matthew was glaring at him.

"Dad! Why did you do that?" He exclaimed. Well, that certainly hadn't gone according to plan. "You just made it worse. Now he's going to go cry again." Matthew groaned and sped away to follow his older brother up the stairs. Arthur blinked, the hell had just happened?

The kettle whistled and Arthur thanked the Lord, he needed his bloody tea. He'd have to check on Alfred when he calmed down a little. And what was that about Alfred crying a lot? That couldn't be true, he hadn't seen Alfred cry since he was little...

* * *

"Alfred...Dad didn't mean it like that."

"Yeah he did. He thinks I'm stupid. Everyone thinks I'm stupid. This is why I stopped trying! Fuck, why'd I ever make that bet?" Alfred cursed, lying on his bed while burrowing his head in his pillow.

"Alfred, for the last time your not stupid. And you should always try. Why not try again for the next test?"

"And get crushed again? Its not worth the effort, Mattie. Nobody even believes I can do anything anymore. Its too fucking hard when nothing goes right in the end. I give up."

Matthew stared at his pathetic looking brother, sitting in his bed depressed. "When I was little and I wanted to give up my older twin brother told me that 'Heroes don't give up, they keep going and prove themselves.' He told me 'Its okay if its hard Mattie, I'll be here to save you.' and now I'm wondering where my big brother Alfie went. Because he surely isn't the moping person in front of me."

Alfred stared at him, hugging his pillow tightly to his chest. He didn't respond, only looking down at his bedsheets. Matthew's words always got to him. He knew he was right but it just hurt, it really did hurt.

"Alfie, please don't be sad. Seeing you sad makes me sad. So be happy for me?"Matthew tried one last time, leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on his twin's forehead. He pulled away and got off the bed, leaving his brother to ponder alone in his room. Outside in the hallway he sighed, dealing with his brother in these moods was emotionally exhausting.

Almost on instinct he pulled out his phone and dialed the familiar number.

"Ja?"

"Hey Gil."

"Matt! What up? How's my cute little boyfriend? Are you naked?"

"No I'm not! I don't even know why I talk to you." He sighed though his lips quirked into a small smile.

"Its cause my awesomeness draws you in. Are you ok? You seem sad or something. You miss me that much?"

Matthew rolled his eyes. "No. Al is just in one of his moods."

"ah. You want me to come over? I could sneak in through the window all Romeo style."

"Romeo didn't sneak in. He threw pebbles at Juliet's window. Do you ever pay attention in class?"

"Not with your sexy awesome figure distracting me!" Gilbert defended wishing he were there to see the dark embarrassed blush blossom on his boyfriend's face.

"Stop it. Look never mind. I'll be fine."

"I don't want you to be fine. I want you to be awesome. You should never strive for anything less."

Matthew smiled warmly. "I'll be awesome just for you Gil."

Gilbert grinned happily. "So...Phone sex?"

"Goodbye Gil."

"You're no fun. See ya Matt. Love you!"

"..Love you too." Matthew answered back before hanging up. He definitely did feel better, hopefully tomorrow would be a better day.

* * *

Alfred's mood continued into the next day, his silence leaving the air empty. Matthew didn't know what else to do. His brother was really hurt by all this. Then again, he had worked harder at this then anything else in his life. Did he really think he was stupid? If only his brother would actually listen to him for once. It didn't matter what other people said, or even what he said when he was annoyed, Alfred was not dumb.

The pair parted ways and Alfred stalked down the halls slowly, not even caring if he was late to class. Spanish wasn't even that fucking important. Maybe he could skip and just sit outside...

"Hello Alfred."

Alfred's fists tightened and he looked up to see his tormentor's damn face. He would give anything to punch it in, bring his IQ down a few notches... The IQ that was apparently higher than his own...

"What do you want Ivan?" He sighed, he just didn't what deal with him right now. Couldn't the other just leave him alone for once?

Ivan blinked at the response. No taunts or snide comments? No mocking? And where had the fiery tone gone from his vibrant companion? Had he done something wrong? He took in the others current form and his smile twitched downward. Alfred looked like a mess, his whole posture slouching in defeat and his blue eyes hollow. Where had the bouncing blond gone? Maybe if he instigated an argument for once his argumentative personality would return.

"Are you mad because I received a higher grade and therefore proved my intellect was superior?" Now he only had to wait for the angry animated retort. Then everything would be normal again.

He didn't get the response he expected.

"Y-you just have to rub it in don't you?" Alfred hissed bitterly and he was _not _fucking crying like a fucking girl. Heroes don't cry! But then again...Heroes were suppose to be smart too. "I get it already. I'm stupid! Just leave me the fuck alone!" He snapped, wiping at his damn watery eyes with his sleeve. He turned around and hurried away before he could embarrass himself any further. It was always the damn commie's fault.

Ivan stood there in disbelief as the American disappeared. He must of done something wrong. Was there some American custom he had forgotten? He didn't like that broken defeated look on Alfred's pretty face. Usually he liked seeing others in pain, but this time he found it clenched his chest. Alfred was supposed to be vibrant happy and lively like the sunflower on his wall. He'd have to fix this.

Ivan just wasn't sure how.

* * *

Bleh  
This chapter was hard to write and I'm still not happy about...  
Probably because I hate seeing Alfred sad. *gives him a hug*  
Don't hate me for making Alfred lose! It had to be done! I'm sorry!  
Anyways, school is evil but I'm still on schedule! Yay!  
And in other news... I got the Hetalia DVD~ Its pretty amazing! XD  
Anyway, Review my little darlings and Ivan will figure out how to cheer up our favorite American hero!  
Love you all and thanks for the support!


	14. Chapter 13

Ivan had become accustomed to his now normal banter with the American. The constant fighting and bickering, the tension because they could not act out violently, it all brought him so much amusement. It distracted him from his darker thoughts.

The absence of it was awful, the loss of the vibrant cocky smile on Alfred's face left him empty inside. The boy ignored him, and he found himself alone once more. No one spoke to him, only Alfred, and now Alfred had stopped. All he had were his thoughts, and his thoughts usually scared him. They consisted of memories best forgotten, worries over relations left abroad and the violent urges he wished to contain.

He realized he needed Alfred back before his mind deteriorated into insanity.

Sadly, Ivan wasn't the best at understanding others inner turmoil. His childhood had lacked close relationships with other people, leaving him at a loss of what to do in delicate situations such as this. Logically, he thought he would need to understand _why_ Alfred was sad. Better yet, if it was his fault that the bubbly American was now depressed. The question was how to find such valuable information?

Then, Ivan remembered Alfred had a brother. The fact had momentarily escaped his mind, the boy's name was Matthew correct? Though Alfred seemed to only refer to him as 'Mattie', which sounded like 'Matvey' the Russian equivalent. Maybe Matvey would know what was wrong with his brother? Yes, he should ask him. So, Ivan waited impatiently for the next day to arrive in order to interrogate the young teen.

He went to the school early, waiting for the Bonnefoy brother's arrival. Ten minutes passed as the students slowly arrived, filling the halls when finally he spotted the blond twins. It seemed Alfred was still in his bad mood, though he was forcing a horribly fake smile on his face that no one would ever fall for. Something clenched in Ivan's chest and he waited for the pair to separate.

Matthew squeezed Alfred's shoulder reassuringly before going down another hall. Ivan was about to make his move when that obnoxious albino came running toward his target. How annoying. Ivan's head tilted in confusion as the pair shared a kiss before continuing down the hall side by side, Gilbert starting a one sided conversation. He thought they were friends...We're they in a relationship? Hmmm... He'd have to ask Alfred when he fixed things.

The bell was going to ring soon and he was running out of time. He needed to talk to the blond now, so that he would be able to fix things before he and Alfred had a class together. His patience was wavering and his violet eyes darkened. The albino didn't seem to be leaving anytime soon. Very well, he'd have to act now.

In a swift movement the Russian advanced toward them, grasping Matthew's arm and with surprising speed dragged him away without a word. Matthew's eyes widened as he was wrenched away from Gilbert's side and soon flung into a dark empty classroom. He was too shocked to scream or thrash from the grip, it had happened so fast. Now he was trying to regain his balance with the help of a desk, he had almost fallen after being thrown into the room.

Gilbert blinked rapidly as Matthew left his side in a blur. The hell just happened? He twisted his head around in search of his cute boyfriend when he heard a door close, almost slammed shut. His eyes fell upon the only door closed. Quickly, he pushed through the crowd and into the mostly vacant hallway. He reached the door and turned the knob, finding it locked. He heard scuffling inside and a loud noise soon muffled. With mounting dread he peered through the tiny window on the door and gasped.

Ivan had his hand covering the thrashing blond's mouth who was trying to scream for help. Matthew had no idea what was going on but for all he knew the teen was trying to hurt him or rape him. He had just locked him inside a dark empty room and was trying to keep him from speaking. This was not right, and he was getting very frightened and he wished Gilbert were here or Alfred.

"Stop!" Ivan finally ordered, patience completely spent as he sent the thrashing boy a harsh icy glare. Matthew stilled, though he couldn't stop the tremor of fear as his blue violet eyes met the cold purple ones of his captor. His mouth was still covered and he debated on whether to bite it or not. Sure he had known Ivan for a bit now, but he couldn't trust the boys erratic behavior nor his violent tendency.

"I am not going to hurt you. I only have a question about Alfred." Ivan clarified. Matthew blinked and his body relaxed visibly. It was always his brother wasn't it? He was so troublesome. When he felt the boy comply, Ivan released his grip and stepped away. "Now tell him to stop making so much noise."

Threat on his life lifted, Matthew finally realized that Gilbert (or atleast he assumed it was him) was trying to break the door while screaming. He blushed, nodded quickly to Ivan before scurrying to the door. He unlocked it, almost having the albino crash into him. After assuring him that everything was awesome he forced the other to leave so he could speak privately with the Russian.

"Why is Alfred sad?" Ivan questioned when the door was closed again. Matthew sighed, so that was what this was all about.

"He's just mad about his grade."

"So it is my fault."

"No. He's just sensitive over the subject." Matthew stated, it wasn't Ivan's fault that he had gotten a better grade.

"Sensitive?"

Matthew felt uncomfortable revealing such personal information about his brother to his enemy (or at least that's what Alfred insisted on referring to him as). "Its not my place to say Ivan. In this case, he worked hard and still lost to you. So he's just angry and disappointed. He'll be ok in a few days" Hopefully at least. His brother did seem more hurt than usual.

"I see..." Ivan murmured, so Alfred would feel better if his grade was higher than his own? Maybe he could fix that...

The bell rang before he could ask anything else and Matthew rushed away, hating being late to class no matter what. Ivan was so far happy with his progress, he now knew what the problem was and therefore could make out possible solutions. The most obvious one being to get his grade lowered. It seemed simple enough.

* * *

Ivan ate his lunch quickly, sitting alone on the schools roof. Apparently, no one was allowed to be up here but no one bothered to stop him. He preferred eating up here anyway. It was quiet and peaceful, unlike the crowded cafeteria. The cool breeze made his scarf flutter slightly and he thought of his dear elder sister, alone somewhere in Russia. He missed her and Natalia so much. They were all he had ever known...

He cleared his thoughts quickly, focusing on the matter at hand. Solving the issue of Alfred's current mood, so that they could return to arguing and therefore continue until they consummated their relationship. It was the American way from what he could deduce, and though it seemed odd he accepted it. Alfred did seem quite patriotic so then he would respond more positively if it were done through the customs of his people.

Finishing his last bite, he stood up and walked over to the door. Descending down the stairs before entering the empty hallway, he looked up at the clock and saw he still had time before class started. Perfect. With his normal creepy smile in place, he proceeded toward the familiar classroom he shared with his dear American, U.S History.

He opened the door and saw the teacher siting at her desk, writing a few notes down. She looked up as he entered and smiled at him.

"Hello Ivan. You're early today." She greeted.

"Da, I came to ask you to lower my grade" He decided to be blunt.

"What?"

"My grade from the previous test. The one I received a 95 on? I need it lowered to at least below a 90 preferably lower." He clarified. Why was the teacher still looking at him confused? Had he misused an English term? He thought he was making his point quite clear.

"I...I don't understand" She murmured, brows furrowed as she looked at him.

His violet eyes twitched and he forced his smile wider. Patience, he told himself. There was obviously some miscomunication that needed to be explained. No reason to hurt the women, no matter what the urges building up said.

"I said, I need my grade lowered." He reiterated and still she stared at him. Perhaps a knock on the head would help her inferior mind? No, he must control the urges.

"But why?" She asked, still horribly confused.

"The reason is of little importance. Will you do it?" _Or will I have to force you?_ He shook the thought away, his fists clenching at his sides. He took in a slow calming breath, he could not hurt the women.

"Grade's cannot be lowered... Unless of course you cheated or something..." She answered, still trying to understand the strange request.

"Ah. Then I cheated."

"You cheated? On who?"

"...Alfred" He answered after a moment. This was so very troublesome. Bashing her head in was starting to seem like a better alternative.

"But you scored higher than him...And you're answers are different..."

"I guessed a few. But I cheated. Now lower my grade." The bell rang and he cursed mentally. This was suppose to be quick and easy.

"Cheating gives you an automatic zero. Is Alfred putting you up to this? I know you two don't get along."

"Nyet he is not. I merely wish for you to lower my score." How many times did he have to explain this? His patience was wearing very thin and he bet the teacher's blood would be such a pretty color against the dark wood of her desk...

Students were filing into the room now and among them he recognized the dismal American he was trying so very hard to appease. Unfortunately, the teacher spotted him also.

"Alfred? Come here please." She ordered and Alfred looked up, grimacing at the sight of the taller student before walking up to the desk.

"Yeah?"

"Are you harassing Ivan into lying about cheating so that you could receive a higher grade?" She asked, almost accused. Alfred stared at her in confusion trying to reign his sudden anger. Everyone kept accusing him of things, was he that disappointing? Did anyone believe in him anymore?

"...What?"

"It has nothing do to with him. Lower the grade." Ivan said tensely, maybe he could get away with only breaking a few of her ribs...

"Lower your grade? Why the hell would you ask her to do that?" Alfred asked, turning his dull blue eyes toward the Russian. That didn't make any sense. Or maybe he was just too stupid to figure it out.

"You are mad because I received a higher grade than me, da? I am correcting the issue." Ivan responded easily.

"You're doing it...for me?" Alfred questioned, his cheeks starting to color. "Why?"

"Because I prefer you vibrant and argumentative."

Alfred pursed his lips in thought and looked away. "Don't. Don't change your grade. That's stupid." he mumbled, not meeting the others eyes and going back to his seat. Ivan blinked and the teacher wasn't sure what to make of the whole ordeal. Ivan left her desk, and she breathed a sigh of relief. He was quite the intimidating character.

Ivan sat down in his own chair and wondered if he had messed up again. Alfred wasn't frowning at least... He seemed to be thinking, his rosy red lips pursed adorably. It made him want to kiss those lips. Really, he needed to correct their current relations quickly so that he could advance their companionship into something more personal.

The Russian went through his head for something else to tell the blond. Something that would finally end this ordeal. Matvey had said that Alfred was sensitive about his grades, though he refused to elaborate. If he had had more time he probably would have been able to coerce more information from him.

Sensitive? Was he embarrassed by them? Maybe disappointed? From what he could tell Alfred didn't usually receive high grades. Did it make him question his own intelligence?

What had he told him that had first set off the American? He had been trying to instigate an argument... He had said something along the lines of his inferior intellect. Perhaps if he assured Alfred that he was smarter than he felt he was? Surely complimenting him wouldn't hurt, if anything it could only advance their relationship forward. Yes that's what he would say.

Of course, he had to wait until the class was over. It was one of the only ways he still felt connected to his lost sister, her pleas for him to do well in school still ingrained in his fragile mind. So, like a good student he took careful notes and tried to keep his mind in English mode, it was so very easy to switch back to Russian.

The bell finally rang and he needed to act quickly. He followed the rest of the class outside the classroom and before Alfred could walk away grasped his arm. Alfred, startled, turned back to him with a questioning look in his glazed pensive eyes.

"Alfred, even though I received a higher grade then you on the test, I still believe you to be a very smart person." There. Now lets see how he would react.

At first Alfred stared at him with wide eyes, and his whole face soon turned into a bright red. He pulled at his arm, tugging it free and taking a step back.

"The hell!" He snapped, trying to cover his embarrassed blush with anger. "You're the one always calling me an idiot!" He accused. Ivan blinked, surely that was true but he couldn't admit that or he would get no where.

"Well, you refer to me as a communist but we both know that isn't true." He countered leaving the other without any responses.

"I...I have to go!" Alfred said quickly, his only excuse to escape the awkward situation. He rushed away from the Russian and hurried toward his next class. What was the commie's problem?

But worst of all, he was smiling. He couldn't believe he was actually happy because of the stupid comment!

...Still, someone actually believed he was more than Airhead-Alfred, believed he actually did have a brain and could use it. And it was his enemy no less! He knew Mattie had been telling him this all along but it meant way more coming from Ivan than from his younger twin brother.

When he reached the door of his next class he had a full on grin displayed on his face, one he couldn't suppress. Ivan thought he was smart. _Ivan _thought he was smart.

For the first time he didn't care that his grades weren't the best, didn't care that Dad was always disappointed about them. In fact, he couldn't give a shit because someone could overlook that fact. Someone could actually see that he _was_ smart, and it made him happier than he ever thought it possibly could.

Maybe Ivan wasn't that bad... Maybe he wasn't a freak... Maybe he just needed a friend to argue and talk to... Maybe he needed Alfred to be that friend.

And Alfred was suddenly ok with that.

* * *

"Hey Mattie! What up!" Alfred called happily as he spotted his brother on his way to their bus. The younger turned around and stared at his now perky brother. Had something happened? Or had he merely imagined the last three days of Alfred's dark mood? Surely this wasn't the same brother from this morning?

"Alfred?"

"That's my name." Alfred answered, coming up to his brothers side and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "How was my little brother's day?"

"I'm only younger by a minute, Al." Matthew responded with a raised eyebrow. He didn't want to ask about his sudden mood change, fearing it would bring his brother back down into the dark depths of depression. He'd tell him soon enough; Alfred was horrible at keeping secrets.

Al laughed and gave his brother a friendly noogie, enjoying the shouts for him to stop. He released him finally and Matthew glared at him before combing his hair back into place. "Jeez Al. Why do you have to be so annoying?" He asked dryly as Alfred continued to snicker. Why did he want the regular Al back? At least depressed Alfred didn't bother him incessantly.

"Aww you're so mean to me Mattie."

"I wasn't the one physically harassing my brother"

"You're so sensitive."

"And you're stu- annoying" Matthew quickly corrected and Alfred laughed again. Good thing he caught himself, he didn't want Al to go back down that road.

"But you still love me~" The American reminded with a grin, stepping onto the bus. Matthew rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, as if that fact was the scourge of his very existence. It didn't really matter what had perked up his brother's mood, at least Alfred was happy again. That was the important thing.

Alfred happily sat down in his seat with his brother, feeling the previous days no longer weighing down on his shoulders. All because of Ivan. It was so weird! Maybe he should do something nice to him? But what...

His mind turned back to the promise he made a while ago. The one about fixing the others precious scarf... That could work, it would make him like his hero! He grinned and knew what his goal was for tomorrow. Easy enough.

The bus ride seemed faster than usual as his mind raced with heroic antics of presenting a newly mended scarf to Ivan and having him cry in happiness, claiming he was awesome and the savior of this world. Yep, that would totally happen. He just needed to make sure his Dad would do it, then he'd have to get the scarf from the commie.

The pair climbed off the bus and hurried back to their home, Alfred almost skipping there. Matthew was greatly amused and wondered if Ivan was the cause of his brother's good mood. If he was, then he was eternally great full and it was worth being scared shit-less because of the morning's antics.

The pair entered the empty house and Alfred imediately turned on the TV, seaching for something entertaining while procrastinating on his homework. Matthew rolled his eyes, having done most of his own during his study. Alfred should actually try and do that instead of playing paper football with Gilbert or the trashcan.

"When is Dad coming home?" Alfred asked impatiently, giving up on the TV and leaving it on Mythbusters. Sure it was 'educational' but he liked watching shit blow up. Especially that one time with the cement truck, fucking awesome.

"Same as always, in like a half hour or more. Why?" Matthew responded, glancing at a lewd text he had received from "The Awesome Tamer of Your Heart". (Gilbert apparently stole his phone today without him noticing). He rolled his eyes and typed back a tame response.

"I need to ask him something. Old man's probably at some crafts store buying yarn.." He grumbled and Matthew snickered knowing that could actually be a possibility. Their father was so odd...

The pair watched the television on and off, not bothering to change the channel when the show switched to Cash Cab. Soon they got pretty into it with Alfred shouting out answers while Matthew cried out his own. Matthew usually one and would rub it in his face and Alfred would snap at him and they'd fall silent for the next question. The two were competitive like that.

It was during a Red Light Challenge, with them yelling out the five neutral countries in WWII, that their father came home. Arthur was quite perplexed at all the yelling in the household as he put down his sewing supplies.

"I'm home." He called out and was surprisd to hear a thumping noise as if someone fell off the couch. Then, Alfred appeared before him, rubbing his lower back with a wince of pain portrayed on his face.

"Dad, you're a tailor right?" Alfred started and received a sigh along with a bored tone.

"Yes, Alfred. I'm a tailor. Have you just realized you're father's profession of 10 years?"

"8 years, mon amour." A french accented voice correted, nearly making the two blonds jump out of their skins.

"Bloody hell Francis! Why are you here?" Arthur snapped trying to pull away from the sudden embrace he was enveloped in. Stupid frog.

"I closed the bakery early." Francis answered, nuzzling into his husband's neck before pulling away. "Bonjour Alfred. You seem happy again? I'm glad. Now where's mon petit Matthieu?" The frenchman called, drifting away toward the family room.

"Where were we? Oh yes you were questioning my profession."

"I wasn't questioning anything! I was just trying to talk to you. God, you're so difficult!" Alfred huffed.

"Difficult? I remember you used to hang on my every word. How adorable you were at night when you asked me to tell you just one more story." Alfred reddened slightly and crossed his arms, pouting in denial.

"I was six! And back then pirates were cool."

"What do you mean back then? Pirates are still 'cool'."

"Nah, ninjas are way awesomer. Kiku told me all about them."

"Ninjas? A pirate could beat a ninja easily." Arthur stated firmly.

"No. A ninja would!"

"Pirate"

"Ninja"

"Pirate"

"Ninja"

"Francis!" Arthur yelled and waited for Francis to pop his annoying head into the room.

"Oui?"

"Who would win in a fight. A pirate or a ninja?" Arthur asked and dared the other to disagree with him. Francis put on a thoughful frown, placing a finger on his chin as if contemplating the most important question in the world.

"Ninja" He answered. He saw Arthur glare at him with such intense fury that he decided to hurriedly add, "But Pirates are sexier. Especially you, Captain Kirkland. I've been such a naughty cabin boy haven't I?" He cooed. It didn't seem to help his husband's temper so he quickly escaped away.|

"See?" Alfred snapped, grinning triumphantly. Papa could be awesome sometimes, instead of the embarassing pervert he usually was.

"His opinion doesn't count. He's french." Arthur countered. "Matthew!"

The younger teen sighed as he came into the room the current feud was being housed in. He really didn't want to get into the middle of this stupidity. "Yes?"

"Pirate or ninja. And remember who will be paying for your college." Arthur reminded darkly.

"Hey! You can't do that! Mattie, remember I'm your twin so you have to back me up or you'll go to hell!"

Matthew frowned at both of them. Really his father was such child sometimes.

"Come on Mattie! Pirate or ninja?"

"Mountie." He answered seriously.

"Mountie? Those are the dorky guys in red in that place above us right? Our soon to be 51st state?" Alfred questioned.

Matthew bristled at the comment in indignation. "It's Canada! And no it's not going to be the 51st state! And the Canadian Mounted police is not dorky."  
"Whatever. You're opinion is now invalid. I win" Alfred declared, heroes always win in the end.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "It doesn't matter. What were you going to ask me?"

Alfred blinked before he recalled the whole point to this conversation. How had he gotten so side tracked? "Oh yeah, could you mend a scarf for me tomorrow?"

"Of course. But, you don't normally wear scarves."

"No, it belongs to...uh... a friend..." Alfred answered. Refering to Ivan as a afraid, creepy.

"Oh. That's fine then." Arthur answered easily enough.

"Thanks!" Awesome, phase one was over. Now all he had to do was get the scarf from Ivan tomorrow.

* * *

I do not own Mythbuster nor Cash Cab and for that matter Hetalia.

And this chapter comes to you early because I've been sick and bored and when I'm sick and bored I write.  
So Alfred is happy once more! Yeah! And Ivan saved the day! Yay!  
And you spoiled readers got your chapter up two days early.  
BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE!  
I actually basically finished the next chapter. It was going to be a part of this one but it got WAY too long so I split it. So yeah, I just need to edit it and then it'll be published. Most likely on Sunday because we're going on mini vacation this weekend and I doubt my parents will let me buy internet so I could post a chapter to a yaoi story...hehe...  
Of course if the hotel has free internet...Then it'll be up tomorrow!  
So next chapter lets just say Ivan doesn't want to part with his scarf and Alfred going to have a hard time convincing him.  
Anyway, review my darlings! Review to all your hearts content so my ego can soar to new heights!

I love you all, and you know how you should return the love? By giving me 200 reviews! Mhuahahahah  
Don't worry you don't have to, I'll still update this story because I love it. But reviews are nice and encouraging. ^.^  
Til the next update in a day or two...~

And Arthur looks totally smexy in a pirate outfit, and Francis is totally a naughty cabin boy who disrespects the captain and needs to be put back in his place...  
*nosebleeds*  
Or maybe that's just my own perverted fantasies? *is shot*


	15. Chapter 14

Ivan closed his locker, wondering how long he had until the bell rang for first period. What did he have first period again? Ah yes, English, the one class he found difficult. The English they used in that class was nothing like the English he had learned. The man they seemed to worship in that class, Shakespeare, his language surely was not English. It was strange and difficult and didn't make sense to him. He had many times been tempted to rip the play or sonnet to shreds. Didn't the teacher say they were going to finish this play and move on? Could he burn it then? His smile widened as he thought of different ways to harm the confusing words.

"Ivan! Hey Ivan!"

Ivan turned around when he heard his name being called. No one ever called for his attention, most people stayed away from him. Yet, he recognized the voice to be Alfred and found the shorter boy rushing over to him.

"Da?" He asked with a tilt of his head. Alfred seemed to vibrant again, chin held high. Good, he was back to normal, his blue eyes bright once more.

"Look...thanks-for-saying-that-stuff-yesterday" Alfred said hurriedly, cheeks tainted pink in embarrassment. "So you're scarf still needs to be fixed at the end, right? My Dad can mend it easy."

Ivan blinked, the quick words skipping over his brain. His English wasn't that good. He did, though, understand the second request, his hand instinctively reaching up to his scarf. The tear had grown no matter how careful he was. He knew how to sew, but he was horrible at it. His large fingers took him ten minutes to just thread the needle. Sewing had been his elder sisters forte, she was a master at mending old clothing so that they didn't need to spend on new garments. He didn't want to taint his sister's scarf with his clumsy needlework.

"Da, that would be nice." He answered stiffly, unsure what else to say. People didn't normally go out of their way to aid him. For that matte why was Alfred?

"Cool, so give it."

Ivan tensed and stared at him, shaking his head quickly. "Nyet."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Then how is my dad going to fix it? Just give it to me, I'll be careful I promise! And then I can bring it back tomorrow good as new!" Alfred assured excitedly. But then he frowned as the Russian shook his head again. He was trying to be nice! Returning the favor by offering to fix the scarf he ripped. The other was just so difficult.

"We have Art today right?" Alfred continued, undeterred by the others so far negative responses. Art was only twice a week, second to last period of the day. Another class he shared with the taller student. "Just give it to me then. I'll return it first thing tomorrow morning."

"Nyet, Alfred. I will not give you my scarf." Ivan said firmly, he couldn't leave it out of his sight. It was very important to him, his last link with his elder sister. He wanted it fixed but couldn't even bear the thought of having it away from him. It was almost a protective shield his sister had placed on him, a last barrier from the evils this world possessed. Ones he had already been subjected to and still haunted him in his sleep.

Alfred tried to hold in his groan. It seemed the other was pretty adamant about his decision. At least he had the rest of the day to convince him otherwise. Alfred was very persuasive, as in he asked repeatedly until the other finally acquiesced from annoyance overload. The system always worked. He'd get the scarf by the end of the day, no matter what.

* * *

Ivan was beginning to wonder why he had decided to focus his attention on the American. Yes he was vibrant, happy and colorful. And yes, he was the only other person who had the courage to speak to him. But he was also extremely annoying. The entire day he had been subjected to the others constant nagging about his scarf. ("Give it! Give it! Give it to me!" "Nyet!")

Did the idiot not comprehend how important the garment was to him? No, wait, he shouldn't call him an idiot... It had been a gift from his sister! Not that he would tell him that, much to personal to disclose to someone who still regarded him as an enemy. The incessant whining was feeding the urge to hurt. He just had to keep calm and control himself.

Art class came around and Alfred was getting desperate. He needed that scarf. Ivan's layers of shields were beginning to break from the constant badgering and he knew he was going to snap soon. Throughout the day he had to keep taking deep breaths and expel violent thoughts from his mind. He needed Alfred to stop.

Ivan had never had an Art class before moving to the States. Frivolous things like it were frowned upon in the old orphanage. They didn't even have different colored pens, let alone a rainbow of paints to use. At first he found the class to be quite stupid, a waste of money, but he soon found it to be enjoyable. It helped to just turn of his mind and draw whatever his fingers felt like drawing.

Most of the time his hands would try and capture the picture on his wall, the beautiful bright sunflower. Yet, when he tried to paint it, he seemed to get the colors wrong, the yellow not vibrant but dull and sad. Sometimes the stalk seemed to bend, wilted and alone. It frustrated him to no end. His sunflowers could never capture the happiness that exuded from the one on the wall.

In Art he forgot everyone else, forgot about his past. Alfred was in his class but mostly kept away from him and he left him alone. Ivan was fine with that, preferring his empty corner to draw. Of course today, with Alfred's little "mission" he received no such peace. In fact, Alfred even dragged his canvas and chair over to his secluded corner, the legs screeching on the tile floor. The Russian's patience was wearing very thin. Keep calm.

"So" Alfred began, and Ivan mentally cringed, trying to prepare himself for the next barrage of pleas. "You going to give me the scarf right? So that my Dad can fix it?"

"For the last time Alfred, no." Ivan snapped trying to focus on the blank canvas instead of the American. He really wanted to punch the others face in, just a little. But he knew he couldn't at school, no matter how much the other deserved it. Ivan caught himself before he snapped his paintbrush in two. With a calming breath he began to paint the canvs with whatever color he found near him. He wasn't paying to much attention to it, most of his concentration on keeping his mind in the realm of sanity.

"Oh come on! For God's sake I'm trying to be the hero! Why are you so difficult? I promise I wont hurt the scarf!" The other whined.

"Why are you trying to help me? If I recall you hate me." Ivan remarked, digging his paintbrush into the canvas, still not paying attention to what he was drawing. If Alfred were to _accidentally_ fall out of the window, would they punish him? Everyone knew Alfred could be clumsy, a strategically placed foot that eneded up tripping him couldn'g get him expelled, right?

He blinked when he realized he had yet to receive a response and that Alfred had actually stopped talking. Ivan shifted his gaze to the other, finding him staring at the ground embarrassed with a slight flush to his cheeks. How cute.

"Because...I'm the hero!" Alfred finally answered, trying to hide his flushed face. _And because you actually believe in me_ he shook the thought away. He couldn't say that, way too mortifying. Plus, then Ivan would get the idea that he actually liked him as a human being. No. The other was a freak, he was just being the bigger, nicer person and keeping his word. That was it. And he didn't _hate _him, just found him...disagreeable.

Ivan raised an eyebrow, his smile reforming on his face. "Oh, is that it?" He teased, mocking the other was just so entertaining. The Russian did enjoy seeing Alfred's face flush crimson when embarrassed, red was such a pretty color. Though it looked much better on Alfred's cute face then on his hands. He never wanted it on his hands again. He didn't want to think about that now, especially when he knew how worn down he was today. He needed to keep the bad thoughts out of his head, lest he hurt someone.

Lest he hurt Alfred.

"Shut up." Alfred retorted with a frown, and turned to his still blank canvas. He wasn't very good at art, usually he just goofed off and drew inappropriate comic like strips. He wondered what Ivan would draw, his eyes turned to the others canvas before they widened in surprised.

"Holy- What are you drawing?" He cried out and Ivan glanced up, startled by his outburst. Violet eyes turned to the canvas quickly and finally registered the image being drawn. Ivan started to tremble. Is this what his fingers drew when he was not focusing on them? What his subconsciousness begged to torment him with?

A deep puddle of red blood was drawn and lying in it was a cold faucet pipe, accusing finger prints on it in red. Then there was the beginnings of a face lying in the blood. The facial expression was yet to be drawn in except for the wide dark eyes. The eyes Ivan saw in his nightmares that plagued him every night.

In swift, shaky movements he grabbed the canvas and broke it in half before throwing it into the trash quickly. His breath came out in ragged gasp and he gripped the counter by the garbage tightly for support. No. He did not just draw that. He wished to forget those times. His mind whirled as a barage of more memories he worked so hard everyday to suppress flooded in. The voices of his past murmuring darkly in his ears. Some louder than others.

"_Brother, you killed father."_

_"Katyusha be gone in an hour or we'll have to remove you by force."_

_"I promise, one day we'll all be together again."_

_"But Brother, you've killed before."_

A hand touched his shoulder bringing him back from his thoughts. He whirled around, violet eyes wide and smile thin. He relaxed when it was only Alfred and not a ghost from his past.

Alfred took a hesitant step backwards, retracting his hand and stared at the shaking Russian. "Are you ok? You're kind of freaking me out..." Seriously, what was all that about. He draws a really creepy picture than goes crazy. And he still refused to give him the stupid scarf!

"N-nothing. Everything is fine. Just fine." Ivan assured, leaving the other before he asked more questions. He grabbed another canvas and got rid of any red paint around him. No more blood. No more blood. He needed to calm down, his mind kept racing. The voices kept hissing. He needed to calm down.

Alfred stared at him unconvinced and thoroughly confused. The hell was going on? It didn't seem like Ivan was going to tell him anything either, the bastard. He sighed in frustration before taking his seat again. He guessed it would be a topic for another day since he was on an important mission.

"Fine I wont ask...but you have to give me the scarf."

"Nyet." Ivan responded, voice soft and controlled, almost icy. He needed to focus, needed to still his frantic brain. Don't break down, don't hurt anyone. Please. He concentrated on his painting, determined to draw an innocent sunflower and not some vignette of his past. Memories kept trying to resurface and he pushed them back with renewed vigor.

Alfred growled and glared at his own canvas, still white. He wished he could just tear the scarf off the others neck, but that's what caused this whole issue. He took a pencil and started scribbling on the canvas. Ivan wasn't paying attention to him anyway. He grinned slightly as he finished his simplistic sketch.

"Look" He ordered, holding up his majestic piece of art to the other. Ivan glanced over wearily. Alfred had drawn what he assumed was himself, wearing a cape and holding some lump triumphantly in his hands. Well thats odd, but he would engage the other in conversation. It might distract him from his darkening thoughts and the threat of a breakdown.

"Why are you holding a dead animal?" Ivan asked, for that was what it looked like.

"Dead animal? That's your scarf! Damn it!" Alfred frowned and tried to prolong the stupid garment as Ivan giggled slightly. "Dick."

"Why did you call me a part of the male anatomy?" Ivan said confused. Alfred rolled his eyes, the Russian could be pretty naive.

"It's an insult ok."

"Not a very clever one. I'm a male so of course I have a one."

"You don't get it-"

"Unless, you were merely referring to wanting to see it?" The taller teased and enjoyed the deep flush that contrasted the others blue eyes.

"NO! God. Never mind." He growled, glaring at the Russian. "Just wanted you to give me the damn scarf."

"You are not getting it. Maybe you're picture would have held more weight colored?"

"Fine." Alfred snapped, getting up to get some paint. He would need a dark yellow for his hair, blue for his eyes. Oh, he should put an American flag in the background to rub it in the commies face. Then he would need some red too. He grinned slightly as he poured an ample amount of red, white and blue on his paint-holder-thingy-he-had-never-bothered-to-remember-the-name-of.

Ivan, meanwhile had turned back to his sunflower, which seemed even sadder and paler than usual. It wilted considerably and Ivan sighed in resignation. Why couldn't his sunflower's ever be as beautiful as the one in his room? Probably because his fingers were still trembling, his mind not fully calm yet. Just take a few more deep breaths and don't think about it.

Alfred turned around ready to transport his painting supplies, his smock already stained. Not that he really cared, that's what it was there for after all. Alfred wondered how Ivan kept his own clean and white. Freak. He had decided to just bring an open bottle of red and blue, knowing he'd need a bunch. He wasn't being wasteful at all.

Of course, he wasn't paying much attention and didn't see the paintbrush on the ground near his seat. "Shit!" He cried out in surprise as his foot flew into the air and his whole body came crashing down. His hands shot out to try and catch himself on something, the paint no longer a priority. Ivan turned around at the sound of the shout just in time to be sprayed with patriotic paint.

The lonely sunflower on the canvas was stained red. Flecks of blue only appeared at the edges because that paint didn't gain as much air.

Ivan took in a shaky breath and looked at himself. His shoes were blue, so were his black pants. The bottom of the smock was also the navy color. But afterward, it was red. Red where it mattered. Especially his hands, his hands seemed to be dripping in angry blood. His bare hands, gloves taken off in order to work the brush better. He felt blood dripping down his face and he started to tremble. Things resurfaced in his mind in astonishing speed even as he wished them desperately away. It was too late, breath coming in short shallow gasps. Before he realized it, his legs were moving and he was running out of the room.

Alfred watched him go, still trying to get his bearings. Crap, there goes Ivan and all his chances to get his scarf. He got back on his feet quickly and ran after the Russian shouting his name while ignoring the lenient art teacher's demands to come back. Shit, what was up with that reaction? He had expected the other to yell at him, not run away with a look of a small frightened little boy!

He slowed his pace, having lost sight of the other teen. Where could he have gone? He looked around frantically before spotting incriminating red hand prints on the door to the men's bathroom. Hesitantly, he moved toward it, he could hear water running and what sounded like murmuring. Was someone with Ivan? No one spoke to Ivan...Well, except for him.

He opened the door and stepped inside calling out the Russian's name tentatively. He stopped mid step when his blue eyes met the frantic figure at the sink. Ivan was hunched over, smock laying discarded on the floor, not unknotted, more like torn off. His hands were plunged into the sink as he scrubbed them desperately. And he was whispering to himself, something in that commie language because Alfred had no idea what he was saying.

"Ivan? What's going on?" He asked, trying to keep the fear from his voice. He was not afraid of the Russian, though the others erratic behavior was quite frightening.

At the sound Ivan turned his head sharply, his whole body tense and defensive. Eyes wide and violet pupils dark and small, as if the light was too bright. He stared at the other, breathing shallowly and quickly. "It won't come off. It won't come off. It won't come off."

"What won't come off?" Alfred questioned confused. Fuck it, he was scared. This was like the beginning of those horror movies. If Ivan's head spun around he didn't care, he was bolting out of the room.

"The blood! It won't come off! It's always there. Always there. Angry blood, accusing blood. Mocking. No matter how much I try it wont come off!"

"Blood? It's paint Ivan!"

Ivan shook his head wildly, eyes unfocused and Alfred felt his heartbeat increasing and all his instincts told him he should run. This was just too weird. But then he saw that Ivan was crying, that tears were falling from his violet eyes and he couldn't leave. Something was very wrong and he was somehow responsible. He was the hero, he had to stay and he had to help.

"Blood is everywhere. All over the floor. On my hands. On the pipe. Everywhere. And Father... Он - мертвый. Я убил его. Я убил его. И Зима. Я убил его. Я - убийца. Кровь - всегда там, напоминая мне. И Katyusha уходит, они убрали ее от меня. Оставленный мной с только кровью. Я ненавижу это. Это не будет отрываться. Это никогда не будет отрываться. Почему это не может оставить меня в покое? Я хочу, чтобы все это остановилось! Пожалуйста. Пожалуйста заставьте это остановиться! Заставьте это оторваться!" The boy was hissing out frantically, eyes darting around the room, seeing things that weren't there.

But they were! They looked so real, so very real. The walls around him were covered in blood, blood that seemed to glare at him. In the corner dead and clutching at his neck was Mr. Winter his eyes staring at him. He could hear his sister crying but he couldn't see her. Natalia stood behind him, watching and accepting. She didn't understand. But worst of all was in front of him.

Father glared at him with such utter hatred, advancing slowly and calculatingly. He smelled of vodka and his eyes were bloodshot. With those eyes boring into him Ivan no longer felt like the tall intimidating teenager he was. No, before his Father he felt like the terrified nine year old who was forced to end the others life. Why couldn't they all leave him alone? Every night they visited and tormented him. Now they were attacking him at school. He couldn't do it anymore, he didn't want to lash out violently but the voices in his head were screaming at him to do so.

Alfred continued to advance on the hysterical boy. Enough was enough. Ivan backed away from him, fear showing in his dark eyes as he continued to murmur in hurried Russian. Alfred noticed and acted quickly, his hands springing forward to grasp at the others wrists pulling him back toward him. Ivan started to try and wrench his hands free, his Russian getting louder and louder.

"IVAN! Calm down! There is no blood!" Alfred yelled and just got the other to fight back harder, screaming at him in a tongue he didn't understand. The American was getting frustrated and nervous and he didn't know what was going on. He needed to get Ivan back to normal. As normal as he usually was. There was something terribly wrong, why was Ivan acting so scared?

"Ivan! Ivan, look at me ok. You need to calm down. Stop trying to get away! I'm not going to hurt you. It's Alfred, ok?" He tried and felt the other stop resisting as much. "Just take a deep breath on three, ok? One, Two, Three." He took a deep breath, his heartbeat calming as he saw Ivan follow. "Now let it out. Good. Just keep breathing. There is no blood. It's just paint. Everything's fine. Nothing bad is going to happen." Ivan was taking slow breaths, slowly relaxing his rigid body. His violet eyes came back into focus, staring into worried blue pools.

Father seemed to melt away as his voice hit his ears. That was not the sound of the harsh slur of words of his father. He listened more carefully and heard the American's name. Father disappeared leaving behind Alfred, looking worried and scared. The world didn't seem so scary anymore. Mr. Winter left the corner and his sister no longer cried. Everything horrible was gone, faded away and Alfred remained.

"Are you ok now?" Alfred asked, hand still holding the others wrist. Ivan gave a slow nod and the grip disappeared. Ivan took a step back, feeling the wall against his back and he slid down it. Sitting on the floor with his knees up he continued to take in calming breaths. He had lost it, in front of Alfred too. He needed to get better control over his mind, what if he got worse? What if Alfred hadn't of been there and he had gotten homicidal? What if he had hurt Alfred? Or worse killed him? He was capable of doing that and the thought scared him more than anything.

Alfred looked down at him still trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. And now Ivan looked so small, sitting down all vulnerable. He almost reminded him of a scared small boy who didn't know what to do anymore. Alfred felt a surged of protectiveness over him, must have been his awesome heroic instincts, not because he actually felt sympathy or something for him. Nope, not at all.

Ivan hadn't noticed yet but he still had red paint on his cheeks. Alfred did not want another freak out so without a word he grabbed a paper towel and wet it down. The Russian watched him wordlessly as Alfred crouched down and kneeled in front of him. He brought the paper towel near the others face, watched him flinch and close his eyes, body tensing.

"Relax. I'm not going to hurt you." Alfred reassured as he rubbed away the stains from the surprisingly soft skin. While he was at it he wiped away the tears that had slipped the others eyes. "There." He announced, pulling away and throwing the wad at the garbage, and grinned as he made it. He was about to stand up when a hand grasped his arm tightly. He turned his face around, confused by the action and met frightened violet eyes.

"Don't leave" _Don't leave me like Katyusha did. Please._ Ivan whispered in a broken voice and Alfred stared at him.

"I'm not leaving, don't worry. But we need to get back to class. Are you going to be alright?" Ivan was scaring him again, in a different way. How could someone go from hysterical psychopath to frightened lost child so quickly? Was it some secret ability commies had? Nah, Ivan was just probably a freak.

Ivan nodded and got up shakily, bringing the other with him. Alfred suddenly remembered the height difference between them (Ivan was way too freaking tall!) and it made the situation so much more awkwarder. The Russian was still holding tightly to his arm, eyes still frightened. He didn't want to go out in public with the other clinging to him!

"Ivan come on. You need to stop. Lets just forget this ever happened ok? We'll go back to normal and everything. But you need to act normal again."

Ivan nodded slowly and let go of him. Then hesitated a moment. Alfred tensed as he felt the other wrap his arms around him in what he assumed was a very nervous and awkward hug.

"...Thank you Alfred." He breathed out tentatively, hoping he was doing this correctly. Alfred felt his face reddened substantially. Why was Ivan so embarrassing? God! He patted his back awkwardly before pulling away.

"Yeah yeah. That's enough." He said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck and wishing the redness on his face gone. "Now lets get back to class, damn commie bastard." He added quickly. Ivan smiled, one that didn't seem very creepy.

"Da, little American, I believe the bell shall ring soon anyway."

"I'm not little!" Alfred snapped, thank God they were back to arguing. He didn't know how long he could take the awkwardness.

"Whatever you say Alfred." Ivan smirked down at him, patting his head before leaving him behind. Alfred gritted his teeth and followed him out of the bathroom.

"You're just freakishly tall because of some commie plot against freedom." He ground out.

As the pair walked back the bell rang but they didn't hurry their pace. Frankly, Alfred felt exhausted. He was still confused and no matter how much he wanted to know why Ivan had a freak out he wouldn't ask. Him and his stupid promises. They always backfired on him. Still, he was a man of his words and he wouldn't speak of the event again.

They got back into the classroom in order to grab their bags not caring about their drawings. Alfred shouldered his backpack ready to go to his last class and then return home. He wanted to take a nap and he never wanted to take a nap. He suddenly wished it were Friday instead of Thursday. At least Thanksgiving was next week, long vacation and he got to pig out. Awesome.

"Alfred."

The American turned around and tilted his head at the sound of the others voice. Ivan looked at him intensely as if debating inside him.

"You...You promise to take care of it?"

Alfred furrowed his brows before they widened in understanding. The way Ivan was touching his scarf gave it away. He nodded excitedly. "I promise! You'll have it back tomorrow morning and it'll be all fixed up." He assured.

Ivan hesitated before slowly unwrapping the garment from his neck. He felt so naked without it. But for some reason, he trusted Alfred. He trusted him with the most important thing in the world and he hoped the other understood American had brought him back from the edge and he was grateful for that, so he would let him take his precious scarf.

He held the scarf out and then pulled it back when the American reached for it.

"This is very important to me Alfred. It's from my sister. If you do anything to it I will have to hurt you." He threatened darkly and Alfred nodded quickly, shivering from the cold threat on his life.

He could go from hysteria, to frightened child to scary threatening creeper. Ivan was such a freak. Still, he accepted the scarf and folded it carefully, slipping it into one of the pockets in his backpack. As he zipped it closed, careful not to get the fabric caught he realized something.

"You have a sister?" But Ivan was gone. Alfred was alone in the Art room and he sighed. "Commie freak" he hissed out before leaving the dark room. The nerve he had! Didn't even say goodbye after everything. He could just go home and burn the stupid article of wintry clothing.

No, he wouldn't do that. That would be cold and almost evil, especially since Ivan seemed to trust him enough. Wow, Ivan actually trusted him... The guy who broke his nose...

Did that mean he trusted Ivan too?

* * *

Translation of Ivan's Russian dialogue during his freak out:

He's dead. I killed him. I killed him. And Winter. I killed him. I'm a murderer. The blood is always there, reminding me. And Katyusha is gone, they took her away from me. Left me with only blood. I hate it. It won't come off. It'll never come off. Why can't it leave me alone? I want it all to stop! Please. Please make it stop! Make it come off!

* * *

And here's the next chapter as promised!  
Am I evil for deriving pleasure from Ivan's pain?  
Oh well, it was fun writing this chapter which only had Ivan and Alfred *le gasp*  
Well they are the main pairing... Francis needs to come back because I loves him, I'll make him important somehow in the next chapter...  
So next chapter Ivan tries to cope without his scarf and Alfred is determined to make sure he doesn't mess up, but the weather might be against them...  
:D  
So Review my lovelies! I adore all of you! Spam my inbox! Spam it with your reviews! XD  
See you all next week in the next chapter!

Oh and Alfred totally wants to see Ivan's dick...he just doesn't know it yet...X)


	16. Chapter 15

Ivan hurried through the halls, ignoring the strange looks and the whispers of his naked neck. He didn't bother heading for his next class, he felt too self conscious and alone. So alone. Instead, he scurried over to the stairs that lead to the roof. No one bothered him up there.

Cool air slapped him across the face when he through the door open. He didn't shiver though, it was only slightly cold to him. He had felt much worse. Still, he didn't like the cold, in fact, he hated it. Especially snow, he abhorred snow. It reminded him too much of home, of his sisters.

He felt his fingers wrap around his bare neck self consciously. Without his scarf, it felt as if a presence was gone. Maybe his sister had been watching him, protecting him with the gift. Maybe the scarf was one last barrier from the cruelness of the world, given to him by Katyusha. He wanted his scarf back!

Why had he given it to Alfred? He needed it!

Ivan took in a calming breath, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. Calm down. He already had a breakdown today, he couldn't have another one. Especially when he was alone on the roof...

And there was no way for Alfred to save him.

He sat down on the roof weakly, feeling the air around him get progressively colder as the blue skies turned a shade of gray. It seemed it was going to rain... He thought nothing of it, and waited for the school day to end.

He wanted it to be tomorrow already so that he could have his scarf back.

He needed it to be tomorrow already.

* * *

Alfred was grinning from ear to ear as he skipped off the bus, not even waiting fro Matthew to follow him. With a huff, the younger Bonnefoy hurried to catch up to his brother.

"Al! What's wrong with you?" Matthew questioned, annoyed yet curious at his brother's behavior.

"Hmm? Oh you'll see!" Alfred cried out, giving him a wink before continuing down the street toward their home. Matthew rolled his eyes, feeling something wet on his nose. He looked up to see the clouds darkening. Rain maybe? He shivered as the wind swept through his thinly clothed framed. Global warming was really messing with the climate. It shouldn't be this cold for another month! Maybe it would snow...

He grinned at the thought, he did love the snow. Alfred and him would have intense snowball fights in the backyard though Al wore down easier when cold. Usually, he was back inside in an hour whining for hot chocolate. He rolled his eyes at the thought. Gilbert though, now he was really good at snowball fights. He just seemed to camouflage well in the wintry weather. Matthew blamed it on his albinism. His sexy albinism...

He blinked and realized Alfred had long since left him, seeing him already at their door and slamming it shut. He frowned before picking up his pace in order to get inside. He really didn't want to get caught in the rain, especially when it was so cold. Getting sick meant missing school which also meant not see Gilbert. He felt more droplets strike his hair as he ran to their doorstep. Reaching the door, he opened it and stepped inside.

"Al, really. You don't even have the decency to wa- OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TO PAPA'S KITCHEN!" He shrieked, dropping his backpack and running toward his brother.

Alfred looked up at the sound, his face a painting of pure innocence. Around him was a battlefield. Bread, cereal boxes, cans of food were all littered around him like corpses as he dug through the pantry. Throwing the dead bodies uncaringly behind him as he searched desperately. The kitchen, the once spotless kitchen, was in a state of disarray and his brother had been here for only 3 minutes.

"Mattie, where are the zip-lock bags? Like one of the super big ones?" He asked, turning sweet blue eyes to his shocked brother. With carefully controlled steps, Matthew stepped forward, pointing just above his twin's head with a shaky finger. Alfred looked up and brightened, snatching the box triumphantly. He pulled out one of the baggies with a huge grin before dropping it to the ground with the rest of its fallen brethren.

"Thanks Mattie! You're the absolute best!" He praised before retreating away from the mess, leaving Matthew to clean it up. He let out an angry sigh as he bent down to pick up the discarded bodies. He _could_ get Alfred to help but it would take forever and Alfred wouldn't do it properly anyway. If the mess were left here Papa would kill them. It was the only thing he ever got truly mad about. So, Matthew resigned himself to his task.

Alfred, meanwhile, had brought his zip-lock bag to the table, carrying his backpack over carefully. Matthew watched him curiously as he continued to pick up the mess. Alfred unzipped his backpack, pulling out what appeared to be fabric. He unfolded it carefully, rubbing his thumb over the damaged end before refolding it meticulously. He slipped it into the baggie, pressing all the air out and then he zipped it up. The blond looked around, with a small thoughtful frown before shrugging and putting the baggie back into his backpack.

"Al, what are you doing?" Matthew finally asked as he finished his duties and closed the pantry. Alfred looked up and grinned at his brother deviously.

"Just you know, putting away Ivan's scarf."

Matthew scrunched his eyebrows together before they widened. "Holy! How did you get his scarf? Did you steal it? Oh my god, you stole it. Al, he's going to _kill _you!"

"Mattie! Mattie calm down! I didn't steal it. He gave it to me so that Dad could fix it! Stop freaking out on me." Alfred assured quickly, feeling slightly hurt Matthews first thought was he stole something. Then again his relations with the Russian were pretty sour.

"He gave it to you? He never takes it off! How'd you manage that?"

Alfred reddened slightly and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know...He just did." Matthew gave him a skeptical look but he ignored him in order to glance at the clock. Only 3:20. Sucks, Dad wouldn't be home for another half hour. He groaned to himself before going over to the family room, plopping down onto the sofa. He flicked on the TV and glared at the clock.

Matthew decided he would never comprehend the inner workings of his brothers mind and sat down next to him, pulling out one of his English books to read for homework.

Time passed slowly and Alfred was getting antsy. The clock read 4:00 and his father still wasn't home. He pulled out his phone and dialed the familiar number.

"'Ello?" Came an irritated British voice.

"Dad? Where are you?"

"In the middle of horrible traffic. And I can't see bloody thing!" His father growled back. Alfred furrowed his brows in confusion. He heard screeching as Arthur swerved on the road along with the curse of 'wankers'.

"Can't see? Why?"

"...Do you not realize we're in the middle of a bloody blizzard?" Arthur snapped obviously. Alfred looked over to the window and his eyes widened as he saw snow falling and whipping around through the wind.

"whoa..." He hadn't even noticed! Too focused on the clock and the scarf sitting in his backpack. He had spared no chances on getting it dirty, having it confined in a protective plastic barrier until his father came home.

"Look I should be home soon. Has the frog called?" Arthur assured, the question posed casually.

"No" Alfred answered truthfully. He didn't normally call unless he was running late or something. He thought nothing of it.

Alfred heard his father curse. "Bloody Frenchman. He didn't answer when I called him. Must still be at the bakery." Alfred nodded, Papa usually ignored his cell when he was working. He preferred being undistributed as he performed his 'art'.

Alfred said his goodbyes and hung up, sighing. Now he'd have to wait even longer for his father to come home and fix the scarf! Grr...

Matthew twisted away from his brother so that he was on the other side of the couch. He brought his legs onto the sofa, placing them on his brothers lap. Alfred flicked his eyes toward his brother before returning them to the TV. He didn't mind the feet on his lap anyway. Matthew was just trying to get comfortable or something.

Ten, then twenty minutes past before the door slammed open. Alfred jumped up, causing Matthew to be pushed off the sofa with a yelp. Alfred ignored him, rushing toward his father eagerly. Arthur was taking of his soggy snowy coat. His face was bright pink from the cold, his hair filled with flecks of white and his green eyes comprised of solely anger.

"Dad! You're home! Fix the scarf please!" Alfred said, bouncing about excitedly. Finally! Now he could fix the scarf and him and Ivan would be even.

"Give me moment won't you? I've barely stepped inside! I need my bloody tea before I do anything. Traffic was horrible and this snow storm is absolutely horrendous." Arthur snapped and Alfred backed away. Arthur was in one of his moods, so he would have to wait until he had his precious tea and calmed down.

As he hung his coat the Brit faltered, turning back toward his son. Alfred saw the green eyes void of all anger. In its place was poorly shielded worry. Odd...

"Francis... Hasn't called has he?"

"I haven't heard from Papa yet..." Alfred answered, shaking his head. Should he start to worry? It hadn't bothered him til now, Dad seemed very anxious about it. Was something wrong?

Arthur seemed to catch the rising doubt in Alfred's demeanor and quickly set out to squash it. "Don't worry Alfred. The frog is just being the inconsiderate prat he always is." He reassured, normal annoyance shielding his true emotions. "Let me have my tea and I'll mend the scarf."

Alfred nodded, his grin returning before leaving his father to his British activities. Best not to interrupt his tea making, or make fun of how meticulous he was about it. Matthew glanced up from his book as he entered, having resettled on the couch, then returned his focus on his reading.

* * *

Ivan watched the white snowflakes whip around in the dark sky, hurling into the ground. He hated snow. Snow was cold, cold brought death. He was sick of death. He wanted his scarf. He needed his scarf.

The phone rang and he growled. He hated that damn contraption, it was so obnoxious and annoying. He picked it up on it's third ring. "Da?"

"Ivan! I'm going to be late. I'm sorry. This blizzard is pretty bad. There's leftovers you can eat in the fridge."

"Da, I understand" Ivan stated before hanging up quickly and returning his angry gaze to the window. He wanted it to be tomorrow morning. He needed his scarf back.

* * *

Arthur threaded his needle carefully, the scarf splayed out in front of him. After being told about eighteen times that he needed to be extremely careful, Alfred had left him to do his job. Really, the tear was quite simple, the mending only needed a few stitches. Though, the fabric was worn and old. The color faded. Wouldn't be easier to just get a new one? At least that's what he would recommend.

Arthur usually worked in the master bedroom (he had his own little work area there) or on the dining room table. But, tonight he decided to work in the kitchen for a change of pace. NOT because there was a phone a few inches away from him that could ring and alert him to the whereabouts of his husband. He didn't care, why should he? If the stupid frog wanted to go frolic and not bother calling his _husband_ about it well then fine! All he knew was that he wasn't having any damn sex tonight.

Picking up the end of the fabric he pierced it with his needle, threading through it before bringing it back up and closing the tear little by little. Three stitches later a loud ring echoed through the halls, quickly silenced as Arthur grappled for the phone.

"Francis! About time you-" He paused, slightly reddening as he realized he was yelling at a recording. He listened carefully before hanging up.

"Lads, you don't have school tomorrow." He notified, hearing a happy "Awesome!" from his elder son.

Alfred grinned, this was great. Three day weekend to relax! No grades, no commie...Oh shit, the scarf! Ivan didn't even want to give it to him for the night, how could he survive without it for three more days? He was going to get killed.

* * *

Ivan hung up the phone calmly and with great care. So there would be no school tomorrow? They always had school, snow or no snow at the orphanage.

He opened a drawer, taking out a sheet of paper and a pencil. With controlled movements he wrote precisely and clearly a few sentences before sticking the note on the refrigerator. He stepped away and headed for the closet. Opening it, he took out his thick coat, putting it on with a controlled sigh. He buttoned himself up, his fingers trembling despite his best efforts.

He bent down, putting on his boots and laced them up. Another calming breath and he was walking to the door. He opened it, feeling the rush of wind buffet him but the cold had little affect. He closed the door behind him, locked it and stepped into the tundra.

He needed his scarf. And he was going to get it.

* * *

Arthur cut the thread carefully and called for Alfred to come over. The boy ran up with a huge grin, taking the scarf from the table to examine the once torn edge up close. He had to give his Dad credit, he was pretty amazing when it came to sewing.

"Thanks Dad! This looks awesome, as if I never tore it." Alfred exclaimed happily. He grabbed at the baggie in order to seal the scarf away from the dangers of the world.

"Wait..You tore it in the first place?"

"Yeah... Look I didn't know!" Alfred quickly defended and Arthur sighed.

"Yes yes. Ever the innocent Alfred. Its fine boy, just a ragged old scarf anyway." Arthur stated, his thoughts drifting elsewhere. It was almost six, still no word from Francis. Alfred frowned at his father's behavior, seeing the worry in his eyes.

"Dad... Where is Papa?" He asked and Arthur looked at him.

"Off running about. He's quite irresponsible like that. Nothing to worry about." Arthur quickly responded. He didn't want to worry the lad. It was probably nothing anyway.

"But... He's always home to make dinner"

Arthur frowned, looking down at the floor. Matthew appeared in the doorway, the only one openly worried over the lack of their father's presence.

"I can make pancakes for dinner... Unless Papa is just running late?" He added on a hopeful note. Arthur looked over at him.

"Why not? Francis wouldn't mind it if _you _cooked in his oh-so-precious kitchen." Arthur answered with slight humor. Anything to lighten the situation. Neither of his sons found it particularly amusing at the moment.

The doorbell rang through the quiet home, startling the trio. "Ah, that's probably him now! Must of forgotten his key the damn wanker." Arthur said as he sped off toward the door. "Really Francis! You're sons were worried sick. Have you no decency at al- Oh. Hello."

The male before him was not, in fact, his husband. Much too tall for that. It was that friend of Alfred's, Ivan right?

"Hello." Ivan responded, unsure how to speak to the stricter father. His pale hair was covered in snow along with his shoulders. The wind howled angrily blowing his hair about. Ivan didn't seem particularly bothered by the cold.

"Come in then! Mustn't have you freeze to death. How on earth did you walk through this blizzard?" Arthur started speaking quickly and hurriedly, ushering the teen inside and taking his drenched coat. Ivan blinked, most of the quick words skipping over his mind as he peered around the home. Walking in this weather hadn't been _that_ difficult, the only problem was remembering the directions and trying to read the snow covered signs.

"Alfred! Your friend!" Arthur called and Alfred looked into the hallway. Blue eyes widened and stared at the other who merely smiled. Ivan? Here? In the middle of a blizzard? Why?

"Ivan? How the hell did you get here!" He asked incredulously, shocked at the others appearance.

"Walked. My scarf?" Ivan responded bluntly. Alfred didn't have it in his hands, what if it was even more damaged? What if the other lost it? Why had he given it to him!

"Through a blizzard? Oh and yeah, let me go get it" Alfred answered, ducking back into the kitchen to get the garment. He hurried back to his classmate, offering the scarf (after taking it out of the baggie). Ivan took it back reverentially, his eyes scanning where the tear had been. Alfred's father was very talented. He wrapped it around his neck and sighed in contentment. Everything felt better now.

Alfred hadn't messed up, he had been correct in trusting him.

"I shall leave now." He said, no other reason to stay in the home now that he had gotten his scarf. It appeared Alfred's father had a different idea though.

"Oh no you wont! Its a bloody blizzard out there! You can't just go gallivanting in the snow, without telling or bothering to contact your husband!" Arthur scolded angrily, reddening as he realized what he had slipped out. "I mean guardian! Toris is probably worried sick."

"I left him a note" Ivan replied simply.

"Well, at least you have the decency to do that." Arthur muttered. "You're staying. Its much to dangerous to walk so far in the snow. Alfred, get him set up for the night."

"Wait. You're having him sleep over!" Alfred cried out in shock. The commie, sleeping under the same roof as the hero? What if he drugged him! Or killed him in his sleep? Sure, Ivan had been cool recently but it could all be some huge trick. He was probably trying to instill trust and then pull some super secret killer move when he least expected it.

"Don't test me Alfred." Arthur bit out and the teen quieted down. He could tell inside his father was freaking out. Papa would come home. It was no big deal. Just running late. Or at least that's what he told himself. Still, his father's behavior was of little comfort.

"Fine." Alfred sighed, giving a half hearted glare in Ivan's direction. The Russian thought nothing of it, still basking in the glow of his returned scarf. How he had missed the warm fabric wrapped around his neck reminding him of his lost sister's embrace. He wished both of them were well back in Russia. Alfred groaned, so now he had to deal with the commie for the entire night, have him sleep in the same room. Just great.

"Lets get you a sleeping bag." Alfred continued, bringing Ivan back from his thoughts as he walked off. Violet eyes watched as the teen opened a door down the hallway and descended. Curiously, Ivan followed him, seeing the doorway housed stairs leading to a dimly lit room. The floor was concrete and it seemed to be used for storage. Alfred was rummaging through a pile of boxes.

"Ah hah!" Alfred said triumphantly, holding up a large bundle. Ivan wasn't sure what it was exactly. Alfred thrusted it into his hands anyway and pushed him unceremoniously up the stairs without an explanation. They reappeared in the hallway and Alfred moved in front of the Russian in order to lead the way. "To my room." He instructed.

They passed by the kitchen, Arthur sitting alone at the table. Ivan wondered why the man was glaring at the telephone. Though, he didn't seem angry. More worried really or maybe anxious. His fingers drummed against the table impatiently. Alfred let out a sigh bringing Ivan's violet eyes back to him. Blue eyes watched the door, hopefully before looking at the floor. Ivan was confused to say the least. Alfred was normally so perky, had someone made fun of his intellect again?

"Well lets go" Alfred reiterated, walking once more and turning to climb up the stairs. Ivan followed wordlessly and almost crashed into the other when he stopped suddenly. The phone rang angrily though the home but was quickly silenced.

"Hello? Francis?" Came a hopeful British voice. Alfred's fingers tightened on the banister and Ivan blinked. "Oh, hello Toris... Yes he's here, do not worry. He can stay for the night... No its no trouble... Bye. Oh wait! Have you heard from Francis by any chance? No? Oh I see...Its nothing,, he just hasn't called yet... I'm sure its nothing... Thank you, goodbye."

Alfred started walking up the stairs again. He barely caught his fathers murmured words, "Where are you?" as he focused his gaze on the floorboards. Ivan wondered why there seemed to be an invisible darkness hanging over the household. He gathered it had to do with Alfred's french father, but wasn't exactly sure why.

As they walked down the hall, Alfred realized he could just make Ivan sleep in the guestroom and not in his own. Well, too late now. He convinced himself that that was the only reason, and maybe also wanting to know more about the others scarf and its importance. Didn't the Russian say something about a sister? Did she go to the school too? Was she hot?

Though his focus refused to remain on the commie for once, instead they drifted. Where _was_ Papa?

They entered his bedroom and Alfred ordered Ivan to drop the bag. Ivan obeyed, slightly perplexed about the whole thing. Alfred sighed and set up the sleeping bag himself, unrolling it on his hands and knees. Ivan watched him carefully, what a creep. It almost felt like he was staring at his ass... He was probably just paranoid.

"Okay, so that's where your sleeping tonight." Alfred explained and Ivan raised an eyebrow. So, Alfred wanted him to sleep on a mat instead of on the bed? How selfish.

"Why can't I sleep with you?" Ivan asked, bluntly.

Alfred crinkled his nose at the thought and did not blush whatsoever. "You're not sleeping in my bed with me."

"You're bed is large enough for the both of us. In fact, a mattress like that could fit five children easily."

Alfred didn't want to know how he knew that. Such a creeper.

"We are not sleeping together!" Alfred snapped, feeling his cheeks heat up. He hadn't meant it like that! At least Ivan didn't notice the double meaning and just gave up. He wasn't in the mood to argue with the other.

"Fine, though it seems counter-intuitive" Ivan acquiesced. Alfred was so odd yet adorable. And he had fixed his scarf which made him very happy inside. He should probably thank him more. "And thank you again, for fixing my scarf."

Alfred reddened. "Its nothing." He said quickly. Usually he liked attention but Ivan's attention made him feel weird. The Russian flashed him that creepy little smile of his. "Look, lets just go down stairs and watch the TV or something... I think Mattie's making pancakes for dinner."

Ivan didn't know what to say. The whole household seem to be dark and gloomy. Vibrant Alfred was hiding something sad within him. Ivan didn't really know how to comfort others, so he stood there awkwardly and followed Alfred. He didn't want to mess up anything.

* * *

Matthew had just set down the meal when the phone rang, startling all of them. Arthur lept out of his chair, almost tripping and wrenched the device to his ear.

"Yes? Hello?" He spoke into the phone, his lips soon forming into a frown. Alfred and Matthew listened carefully to the one sided conversation. Ivan assumed he should too.

"Yes, Arthur Bonnefoy speaking... What accident?" Arthur's hand began to tremble and he turned to his sons. "Turn on the news please." He ordered quietly and the two rushed to follow the order. Matthew was faster and was able to switch the TV on while flipping to the local news channel.

"-rible accident. Just now have we been able to get footage because of what experts say is one of the worst snowstorms in the area's history." A women was speaking into a microphone before the screen switched to video. The two boys gasped in unison.

"Th-that's Papa's car" Matthew murmured shakily, his heart rate accelerating considerably. Alfred didn't say anything, merely watched.

"At 5:18 a McDonald's truck swerved off the icy roads and smashed into a civilian's car which was then pinned to the side of the road. Two more cars hit the truck and car. Because of the storm it has been hard to access the accident and we are still waiting to see the status of the victims."

"That's Papa's car." Matthew reiterated, louder and more panicky. His blue violet eyes widened, turning to his older brother for some sort of comfort. Alfred was still staring at the TV. They both turned at the click of a phone hanging up.

"Dad?" They both questioned in identical worried tones.

Arthur didn't look at them, his body turned the other way and his hand still gripping the phone tightly. "Papa's in the hospital."

"Is he ok?" Alfred asked hurriedly, getting up to rush over to his father. Matthew was frozen in place and Ivan stayed at the table unsure what to do.

"They don't know. He just arrived 10 or so minutes ago." His voice was neutral, calm and distant.

"Just arrived? But the accident was around five! It's past six!"Alfred insisted, feeling anger course through him. HOw dare they take so long to treat his Papa!

"The ambulance couldn't get to them as fast. The storm..." Arthur answered, voice cracking slightly and dripping with poorly hidden emotion.

Alfred hesitated, seeing how his father's shoulders trembled minutely. He still hadn't turned around. "Dad?"

"I'm going. I'm going to go see him." He hissed determinately, moving to get to the front door. Alfred's eyes widened and he grabbed his father's arm quickly, holding him back.

"Alfred. Let. Go." Arthur growled, glaring at the floor and still not turning around. Alfred held firmly.

"No. Dad you can't go into that storm!" Alfred insisted and felt a tremor pass through his father's body. The elder whirled around, green eyes filled with desperation and tears held stubbornly back. Alfred almost let go. Almost.

"I have to Alfred! He's alone and he's hurt!" Arthur pleaded pulling at his hand. He didn't look like the stern harsh father Alfred had grown accustomed to. He looked vulnerable, small and fearful that he was going to lose the most important thing in his world. Again he almost let go. The look on his father's eyes hurt him.

"But what if you get hurt to!" Alfred reasoned and felt Arthur stiffen. "You can't both get hurt! Please, don't go."

Arthur took in a shaky breath and let it out. "I'll leave as soon as the snow stops." He sighed and felt the grip on his arm loosen enough to free him. Alfred pulled him in for a comforting hug but Arthur remained tense, fearful. The teen realized his father needed to be alone. Arthur wasn't accustomed to revealing his emotions, he didn't like to. He preferred to deal with these things alone or else he would bottle them up forever.

The family wasn't hungry anymore, the pancakes left abandoned and untouched on the table. Almost untouched, Ivan had started eating before the family started freaking out but he quickly stopped. The pancakes were delicious in his opinion and leaving them uneaten seemed like a huge waste. Normally, he would have brought it up but something was wrong and the twins were practically unapproachable. Ivan wished Alfred's English father had let him return home.

"Ivan." Alfred murmured, tugging at his sleeve. Ivan looked at him, seeing his blue eyes swimming with fear and worry. He wanted to get rid of such feelings. Alfred should only be happy in his opinion, that emotion fit him best. "Let's go to my room..."

The Russian stood up obediently and followed the twins up the stairs, leaving Arthur in the kitchen. He was glaring at the T.V. silent tears threatening to fall from his eyes. He slowly sat back down at the table and rested his head in his hands in defeat.

Inside Alfred's bedroom the elder twin switched his T.V. on to the news where the accident was still being broadcasted. Ivan sat down on the 'sleeping bag', leaning his back on the bed's edge and watched the story curiously. So Alfred's French father had been in the accident? Best to find out more about it then.

"Alfred." Matthew whispered, sitting down on his brother's bed. His eyes were watery as he watched the screen. "Papa's going to be ok, right?" He knew it was a childish thing to ask but he just needed to be comforted. If only a little.

"Of course he'll be fine, Mattie." Alfred answered confidently, as he sat down beside him and looped an arm around his shoulder. "He probably only has a few bruises but can't come home because of the storm. I can just see him insisting with the nurses. 'I have to get home before dinner! My husband will kill my sons with his horrid cooking!'"

Matthew didn't smile, blue violet eyes not meeting the others bright blue. "Al... What if he dies?"

Alfred's eyes widened and he stiffened. He hadn't thought of that. He couldn't imagine tomorrow without Papa, without a warm meal, without a happy smile, without embarrassing noises from the master bedroom. Papa couldn't die. He just couldn't.

"He won't die! Don't say things like that. He'll be fine and molesting Dad by tomorrow." Alfred assured shakily, wrapping his arms around his brothers tightly. He could tell his twin was crying into his shirt but he refused to do the same. Heroes don't cry, especially when they needed to comfort others.

"It has been confirmed that the truck driver has died in the hospital." A neutral voice spoke from the TV.

The pair stiffened and Matthew gripped his brother tighter, eyes squeezing shut as if trying to block everything bad out. Not even Alfred's comforting chant of "He'll be fine Mattie, Papa will be fine." gave him reassurance. With a shaky intake of breath he pulled away from the other.

"I'm g-going to call Gil and get Kumajiko." He whispered as he left the bedroom. Alfred wondered why but didn't question it. Gilbert did get along well with Papa for some odd reason. The Kumajirou part though was understandable, his brother still held a great attachment to the stuffed bear.

Ivan watched as a transformation underwent Alfred with his brother now gone. The confidence disappeared as he slumped. The empty space in his arms was soon replaced with a pillow he hugged close to his chest. His face disappeared from his view as it hid beneath said pillow. His shoulder's trembling alerted to Ivan that behind the pillow Alfred was crying. He decided to correct that, even if he didn't know how.

He crawled up on to the bed and kneeled in front of the other. "Alfred?" He asked softly, watching the others grip on the pillow tightened, his face burrowing into it more. More shaking.

With calm, slow movements Ivan pushed the pillow down and revealed the red, tear stained face. He had always entertained the idea of seeing Alfred weak and crying before him, thinking he'd enjoy seeing the other so vulnerable. He realized he hated the look of hopelessness that painted the others face. He had to fix this somehow.

"Alfred"

"I'm fine." Alfred quickly said, wiping at his eyes in denial. He didn't need the fucking commie making fun of him because he was fucking crying. That was the last fucking thing he needed. He needed to know that Papa was ok.

"No, you are not." Ivan stated truthfully. How does one comfort in this situation? Alfred had hugged his brother to his chest but Ivan doubted Alfred would respond positively if he were to do the same...

"Do... Do you have a father?" Alfred asked suddenly. He didn't want Ivan to press him and he was curious. He knew the other was also adopted but didn't know the details. Alfred himself had barely known his birth parents, but Ivan might of.

Ivan stiffened at the questions, unwanted memories filling his mind. "Da. He's dead." He answered curtly. Hopefully the conversation was now over. Apparently not.

"I'm so sorry."

"Do not be."

"Oh, so you didn't know him?" Maybe he had died when Ivan was really young and that why he became an orphan.

"Nyet. I knew him very well."

Alfred furrowed his brows in confusion. "Then aren't you sad he's dead?" He asked incredulously. Surely he had to be!

"No. Never." Ivan snapped, hands tightening on the bedsheets. His voice cold and bare of any sympathy.

"You heartless bastard!" Alfred shrieked, body tense and angry. How could the other just not care that his father was dead? Especially if he knew him 'very well'. What kind of sick bastard is completely numb of any compassion? Alfred had never felt so angry at anything in his life.

Ivan's eyes widened at the accusation and he was caught by surprise as the other lunged at him. They fell off the bed and onto the wood floor, Alfred on top and beating at his chest clumsily and angrily. Ivan was too shocked to do anything but stare. That is, until a blow hit his still sensitive nose and he quickly tried to stop the blond. He wasn't sure what was going on but he needed the other to calm down.

Alfred was yelling at him, amongst angry tears but his blows were more emotional then tactical and they were loosing strength. Ivan found it to be quite easy to flip them over. He sat on top of the other, immobilizing him while his large hand gripped the others wrists and held them over his head. Alfred thrashed and squirmed before finally stopping with a shudder. Tears continued to fall from his blue eyes that now locked on violet.

"H-how can you say that? How can you not care? Papa might be dead! He could've died! And you don't care! I cant... I can't imagine Papa being dead. And you! You're a h-heartless bastard!"

Ivan blinked, "You're father is very different then my own. You said it previously, your father will live."

"I just said that to make Mattie feel better! He might have died already!" Alfred cried out, trying to pull his wrists free. Ivan didn't know what else to say but he decided to release the others hands. Alfred didn't seem to want to attack him anymore.

"Get off." Alfred ordered, voice hoarse as he pushed at the others broad chest. Couldn't the other just leave him the fuck alone? Why did he always get like this when he was around? All emotional and shit. Ivan complied slowly and then decided to just try it and hope for the best. He grabbed the other and hugged him to his chest. He felt Alfred stiffen in his arms and try to pull away angrily. Now was when he was suppose to say comforting words, right?

"You're father will be alright. If you look at the accident, most of the damage was on the rear of the car. He won't die. Maybe a broken leg or arm but not dead." He spoke calmly and factually. He felt the other still his movements but the American remained tense in his arms. Alfred didn't try and pull away, merely looked up into the others pale face.

"H-how do you know that?" He asked, fearful of regaining hope only to have it dashed once again.

"I can tell from the news footage." He answered truthfully and then decided to add, "I can read it because of my secret communistic training."

Alfred stared at him a moment before his lips quirked upward at the last comment. "I knew it." He breathed out playfully and his mood felt slightly lighter. Ivan said Papa would be alright, basing it on facts from the footage. He was the one who believed in him so he was going to have to believe him here too. He put it to the back of his mind that it was really awkward to hug _Ivan_ of all people and wrapped his arms around the other, reciprocating the embrace.

Ivan smiled at the movement, Alfred seemed to be liking him more. From mending his scarf to hugging him. Soon they would be able to go further, but not now. Alfred was much to worried to respond positively if he were to bring it up.

The dreaded phone rang and Alfred knew, just like his father probably did, that it was the hospital. It continued to ring since everyone in the household (well, maybe not Ivan) feared what kind of information it might disclose. It was finally silenced by he assumed his father and Alfred merely burrowed his face into Ivan's shoulder.

Please. Please make sure Papa is ok.

* * *

SO SORRY THIS IS A DAY LATE!

I had SO much homework it was ridiculous. Stupid APs and there stupidness. Grrr!  
Also, this chapter was REALLY hard to write. Probably because Francis was in it but in a bad way.  
You guys probably hate me now. In my defense, I do have this story under Hurt/Comfort.  
You're going to hate me more from now on...  
Maybe the humor in the last chapters was just to instill trust...*shifty eyes*  
Lol, or maybe I'm just messing with ya.  
Anyway, I feel like this chapter is really sterile, but I guess thats how it should feel.  
Whatever, next chapter we find out Francis' fate and Arthur is adorable. Just sayin~

Review! Because even if you hate me now I still love you! With all my heart and more!  
Oh and seriously more than 20 reviews for last chapter! Holy shit guys! Thats amazing!

Now make it 50!

hehe...just kidding...hehe...

Love you and Review!~


	17. Chapter 16

Arthur sat despondently at the kitchen table, the phone sat innocently in front of him. Occasionally, he glared at the window, more specifically the snow that just would not stop falling. He blamed the snow for all his current problems, suddenly wishing he lived in a more tropical climate, even if his sensitive skin would burn to a crisp under a harsh sun.

In the other room, the TV continued to replay the accident, new information being gathered as the victims were taken to the hospital. He remembered his hands clenching at the mention of the truck driver's death. If he died then Francis... He took in a shaky breath, not bothering to stem the stream of tears running down his cheeks. No one was in the room with him, he didn't bloody care. He just wanted Francis to be alright. The bloody frog had to be, he said he would annoy him forever. He couldn't just back out now.

The phone screeched in his ears and he stared at it as it rang. He hesitated, not really knowing if he wanted the information it would disclose. Could he handle it? Could he handle it if... He wasn't sure. At the fourth ring he picked it up with a trembling hand.

"H-Hello?"

"Is this Arthur Bonnefoy?"

"Yes." He said, taking in a calming breath. Everything would be ok. Francis couldn't just...

"I have more information on your brother Francis." The voice continued monotonously, uncaring in the least. Arthur twitched and his nerves didn't stop him as he snapped at the woman.

"I'm his husband, not his damn brother." He hissed before cursing himself mentally. There was silence on the other line and he knew he had jeopardized his entire situation.

"I see. Then you'll both be going to hell, so there's no reason for our aid." And the line went dead.

Arthur stared at the phone before slamming it shut. "Fucking dammit! Why the fuck does this happen!" He yelled, smashing his fist onto the table. The tears streamed harder down his face as he cursed the damn woman for all eternity. He needed to get to the hospital. What if they refused to treat him because of his damn slip up? Fuck!

"This is why we moved away. Fuck, its happening again!" He cried, not caring about his promise with his son, the snow still falling violently. He needed to get over there. He left the kitchen hurriedly, hastily putting on his coat and frantically looking for his bloody keys when the phone rang once more. He stiffened, wondering if it was just going to be the women yelling at him for his 'sins' and then notifying him they had pulled the plug. It rang again and he grabbed it.

"Hello?"

"Arthur Bonnefoy?"

"Yes. And you bloody well better be treating him!" He snapped.

"I'm very sorry for my co-worker's behavior, her views do not coincide with the rest of ours, believe me." A sympathetic voice spoke earnestly. Arthur relaxed slightly, taking a calming breath. "I'm here to assure you we will take care of your husband just like any other patient." She continued. "Regardless of your... relations with him."

"Is he alright?" He asked quickly, his grip on the phone tightening.

"He is currently stable. His right left leg is broken along with two of his ribs. He has a large cut on his arm that had still been embedded deeply with glass from his window. He has many bruises but he is breathing, and is not paralyzed, a very lucky man indeed."

Arthur felt a wave of relief flood his very being, Francis was going to live. He would be fine. He wasn't rid of him yet.

"Can I see him?" Arthur asked quickly, needing to see for himself that he was alright.

"Sir, I can not advise you to come over during such a dangerous blizzard. I suggest you stay home until the snow stops or at least until the morning."

Arthur's heart fell and he bit his lip worriedly. "Is...Is he awake?" He asked, hoping that maybe, just maybe he could hear his voice.

"Hold on." The women said and he could hear distant murmurs but could not understand them. The voice came back, "No, but he apparently had a message for you."

Arthur blinked. A message? His curiosity rose as he waited for the women to relay it to him.

There was a pause accompanied by a light giggle from the other line and the Englishman was immediately wary. "I must remind you that he woke up as we were bandaging him up, and he was quite high off the medication. He was also half asleep and pulled one of the nurses aside in order to tell her that the message was of the...up most importance." She explained hurriedly.

"What is it?"

"He...Well... He didn't want you to er worry." She seemed to be having trouble with her words, and Arthur could hear the smile on her face. "He wanted us to assure you that everything_ down there_ is perfectly fine."

Arthur reddened immediately, "The bloody wanker." he hissed. Why had he been worried about him? He could have been rid of the French pervert. "Yes, well thank you very much for telling me all this. Expect me there as soon as the storm calms." He stated before hanging up the phone.

His anger and embarrassment quickly subsided because Francis would be fine, that he was alive and well enough to make such a mortifying comment. Maybe that's why he had done it, to quell Arthur's worries.

The Englishman made his way up the stairs, determined to alert his sons that their Papa was fine. He opened Matthew's door to find the boy hugging his bear close to him, burying his face in its white fur. His other hand gripped his cellphone tightly which he had pressed against his ear. He wondered who he was calling, he had thought the twins would be comforting each other.

"Matthew?" The teen looked up, whispered something into the phone and hung up. He looked up at his father worriedly, red eyes irritated with tears still falling.

"Is he al-alright Dad?" he pleaded and Arthur stood there semi awkwardly, he had never been good with emotions.

"Yes, he's fine Matthew. A few broken bones but fine enough to leave me a perverted message." He answered with a small smile. He blinked when the boy almost attacked him, usually he expected this from enthusiastic Alfred not shy little Matthew.

"Oh, thank god. Papa's ok. He's ok." the teen murmured as he hugged his father close, Arthur smiled and hugged him back lightly. Matthew pulled away, kissing his father on both cheeks. "I love you Dad, ok?" He added quickly and Arthur nodded, ruffling his sons hair like he would when they were younger.

"Yes, yes. And I love you. Now I'm off to tell your brother." He responded quickly, departing from the room as Matthew eagerly opened his phone once more. He walked the short distance across the hall and opened the closed door. He was quite surprised at what he saw.

Ivan sat on the bed with Alfred in his lap. Russian arms held his son to his chest, so that Alfred's back rested on the others chest. Alfred was leaning back in the embrace, his own hands clinging to the Russian's arms. Blue eyes watched the TV screen, showing the accident, worriedly as Ivan seemed to be whispering things into the teens ear. Things that made Alfred nod.

Arthur stared at them a moment, trying to understand because he had been quite certain that Alfred abhorred the other in every shape and form, "Alfred?"

The American looked up at the mention of his name. Once he recognized his father, he jumped out of the embrace, causing Ivan to almost fall of the bed and ran over to the elder. Worried hands grasped Arthur's arms as blue eyes bore into green, "Well? Is Papa ok? He's ok right?"

"Alfred, you're hurting me." Arthur said quickly, already feeling bruises forming on his fore arms. He felt the grip loosen slightly and continued, "Yes, Papa is fine. He broke a few ribs and his leg but he's doing fine. He even had the audacity to leave me an inappropriate message. There's no reason to worry about the bloody wanker."

Alfred grinned instantly and pulled his father into a crushing hug, even spinning him around, much to the others displeasure. "Thank god! Papa's ok. He's ok!" Alfred shouted, echoing his brother's words from earlier. Really, the twins could be so alike sometimes.

"Yes, now put me down." Arthur said briskly, as his son obeyed and set him down. It was quite odd to remember how tiny Alfred had been, and now he was taller than him and could pick him up easily. How unnerving. "We'll visit him as soon as the storm dies down." Alfred nodded and Arthur left the room to probably get some tea or something. Alfred could care less at the moment because Papa was ok!

"I told you Alfred." Ivan murmured from his place on the bed, reminding the American of the others presence. The blond turned around, blue eyes bright and thankful and he couldn't suppress his grin.

"Papa's going to live." He said aloud, making it more concrete by saying it aloud. He wished they could see him now but didn't want to risk having someone else get hurt in the blizzard. Instead, he sat back down on the bed, but not in is previous position. Now with the weight off his shoulders, he realized how awkward such an intimate position was. Had he really been sitting in Ivan's lap? How weird!

Ivan felt slightly disappointed as the American sat a little ways away from him, instead of in his lap. It was nice to have the others warmth pressed up against him. Warmth he had never really felt, now that he had he only desired more.

Alfred didn't know what to do now. Papa was ok, the worry no longer taking over his mind. Now he could focus on how Ivan was in his bedroom, sleeping over and how weird that was. Shouldn't he be freaking out? What was he suppose to say to the other anyway?

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the room, only the TV speaking through it, though now one payed attention to it anymore. Alfred _hated _silence. He needed to end it, needed to say something. He wasn't sure what though. So, he just decided to open his mouth and see what would come out.

"So, you have a sister? She hot?" His eyes widened and he covered his mouth. Well that wasn't a good way to put that. Especially since Ivan's every muscle seemed to stiffen beside him.

Ivan had the sudden urge to rip Alfred's vocal cords from his throat because of what he perceived to be a comment disrespecting his sister. He controlled himself though. He had learned that Alfred mostly said things without thinking and he was just being curious. Also, he did not want to move backwards when everything had been going so well. Alfred had hugged him, and had sat in his lap. Things were going quite well.

"...Da, I have a sister." He responded, his hands instinctively going towards his scarf, tightening the fabrics hold around his neck. "I have two..."

"Two? I've never seen them at school. Are they like older or something?" Alfred continued, cool Ivan was talking. Something he didn't do quite often. Maybe he could actually find out more about him.

"...One is older and one is younger..." He hesitated slightly, his knees drawing closer to his chest as if to shield him. "They are still in Russia." he finally murmured.

Alfred blinked... Still in Russia? So wait they weren't adopted together? The thought made him frown. He couldn't imaging not being able to stay with Matthew, if they had been torn apart through the adoption process... He didn't know what he'd do. "I'm sorry. Do you know where they are? Do you keep in touch?"

Ivan didn't like how personal this conversation was getting. Couldn't they change it to something else? "Nyet... Natalia is most likely still in the orphanage... She is younger..." He murmured, looking down at the bedsheets. "I do not know where Katyusha is, I haven't for a long time."

Alfred bit his lip, the tone Ivan was using as he spoke was so sad. "Is she the one who gave you the scarf?"

Ivan didn't look up, his fingers playing with the end of said scarf. "...Da, it is all I have left of her..."

Now Alfred felt like a jackass, a complete asshole. Shit, how could he have ripped the thing? No wonder Ivan hadn't wanted to give it to him. It was obviously super important to him. Yet he had pressed. At least he fixed it, that had to count for something.

"Can we end this conversation?" Ivan asked after a moment, not wanting to disclose anything else. He didn't like to think of his past, and telling Alfred, though he did trust him, made him very uncomfortable.

"Sure...What do you want to talk about?" Alfred asked, turning slightly so he was facing the other. Ivan thought a moment, looking up and relaxing his body once more. Violet eyes turned toward the American curiously.

"How did your two fathers adopt you?" He asked. Alfred blinked at the surprising question. It seemed a bit intrusive, but then again, he had just been probing Ivan's personal life. It wasn't as if the thought brought back painful memories, far from it really. Unless he talked about the time after that... But he wouldn't, he would just explain how he found the Bonnefoys.

"Well... I guess its more like, we found them and they kinda...had to adopt us." Alfred chuckled lightly, especially when Ivan tilted his head in confusion. The purple eyes showing keen interest and his mouth forming a curious pout instead of his creepy smile. It was kind of...cute? Ok never think that ever again! Ivan was not cute, he was a creepy, abnormal freak.

"Here, let me explain." He continued, resettling himself on the bed in a more comfortable position. He stretched out his legs on the bed, leaning back by resting his hands behind him for support. He stared up at the ceiling thoughtfully, trying to figure out where to begin. Once his thoughts had formulated, he laid down and turned to his side, facing the Russian. Ivan remained sitting, staring at the other as he muted the television and opened his mouth in order to begin.

_Mattie and I were like one or two when we were put into the orphanage..._

_

* * *

_

The orphanage was small, run by kindhearted but strict nuns. Everything was clean and neat, from the outside to the inside. They had three meals a day and a snack, mass every morning starting at the age of four and preschool straight after. It was a quaint orphanage but, in Alfred's young mind, very boring.

Bright, blue eyed Alfred who started talking at the age of two and would not shut up there after was quite the handful for the nurses. He was always the cause of some sort of mischief, be it sneaking food from the cafeteria to climbing onto the Virgin Mary statue. Always running around the place with his side kick twin brother, Matthew. The pair were inseparable as they went around causing chaos, though Matthew was much more quiet and well behaved alone. Still, with his brother, he could never argue and usually agreed to do whatever prank the elder had in mind.

The file on the pair stated that their mother, Jane Williams, had been a young naive seventeen year old soon impregnated by her sweetheart Sam Jones. Ill prepared for what she soon found out to be twins, she opted for adoption instead of an abortion. Thus, the newborns were placed into the orphanage and due to their unruly behavior were not adopted.

Time passed slowly inside the building and Alfred had his mind set on bigger and better things. Learning shapes and colors was boring, he wanted to go outside and see the world. To play on playgrounds he'd never seen, to watch as many sesame street episodes he wanted. He especially wanted a family.

Alfred had always seen the loving couples on the communal TV in the orphanage, he'd seen them come in for adoption too. He wanted that, wanted to be loved even if he did bad things. He had that with Mattie, but he wanted a father and a mother too.

Sadly, no one seemed to want them. So, Alfred decided one day when they were both four, they'd just find their parents themselves.

"What do you mean find them, Alfie?" Matthew had asked, nibbling at his carrots as he listened to his brothers fanciful plans.

"I mean none of the mommies and daddies want us. So lets go get some ourselves!" He insisted excitedly, his mashed potatoes all over his face. Matthew rolled his eyes and took his napkin to wipe at his brother's face. Alfred whined but didn't protest as he was cleaned.

"Alfie, we're not suppose to go outside without one of the sisters." Matthew reminded, putting down the napkin when he deemed the other clean enough.

"That's why we go at night! When everyone is sleeping we leave. Then, we go and look for a mommy and daddy to adopt us. Then, we come back before the sun comes up, the sisters won't even know! Then, the mommy and daddy will come and adopt us." Alfred declared, happy with his plan and turned expectant blue eyes toward his brother.

"But Alfie... The sisters know everything 'cause God tells them. They'll know." Matthew pointed out, taking some of Alfred's carrots since he knew the other wouldn't eat them.

"But I already asked God not to tell them." Alfred stated. He had asked really hard and had promised not to climb on the manger in return for the favor. God had to keep it a secret.

"I don't know..."

"Please Mattie! Don't you want a mommy and daddy?" Alfred pleaded, and felt his brother's protest crumble.

"...Ok..."

"Yay!" Alfred pulled him into a hug and gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Matthew sighed, rubbing his cheek with his sleeve. He never could say no to his twin.

That night, Alfred enacted his brilliant plan. After everyone had fallen asleep, Alfred slipped out of his bed, stuffing his pillow under the covers to seem like he was still there. He nudged his brother in the neighboring bed who woke up with a silent yawn and soon did the same. Hand in hand, the pair scurried quietly out of the room.

The twins soon discovered that the nuns stayed up after their bedtime, much to Alfred's annoyance. Why did they have to go to bed if the nuns didn't? Matthew was still rubbing at his eyes tiredly while holding his white polar bear in his hand. Alfred had won it in one of the games the nuns had at Easter and had given it to him. Matthew cherished the bear because he knew his brother wanted to get the Alien plushy but stopped when he realized his twin wanted the polar bear.

They held their breaths as they tiptoed down the hallways, maneuvering stealthily through the silent halls. Finally, the reached the front door, though they couldn't quite reach the doorknob. Matthew climbed up onto Alfred's shoulders, since Alfred was convince he was the stronger twin, unlocked and opened the door. The both cringed at the squeak the hinges gave out and waited to be caught. Nothing happened. With identical grins the pair ran off into the darkness, not bothering to close the door.

It was after running down a few streets that Alfred let out a triumphant, but quiet, "Yes!" and hugged his brother. Matthew giggled with him, feeling bubbling excitement in his stomach from the plan actually working.

"Now where do we go?" Matthew asked his twin. Alfred frowned slightly. He hadn't thought it out this far. He spun around, trying to decide in what direction they should go. His eyes caught a foresty area and he grinned at the idea of a park or maybe a playground.

"There!" He cried, pointing a chubby finger in the same direction before dragging his brother with him. They ran down the street, turned left, crossed it before coming to the path that led to the park. At first it was only open grass and then woods because they had come in through the back. As they ran happily though, they finally broke out of the trees and into an old well used playground.

In moments the two were swinging on the swings, the quiet air filled with giggles and laughs as they played. Alfred even managed to climb up the monkey bars though was unsure how to get back down. Matthew had to talk him through it until nervous legs touched the ground. Afterward, Alfred was already trying to climb up something else. Matthew preferred to swing, getting pretty high as he pumped his little legs through the air.

Alfred was already quite ragged from the entire excursion. His clothes were dirty and muddy, his white socks now brown. His face was grubby and his blond hair had flecks of dirt. Still, his blue eyes shone bright with mirth as he stood near the top of the slide, watching his brother swing almost as high as the sky.

"Mattie, jump! I bet you'd reach the other side of the street!" Alfred encouraged eagerly.

Matthew hesitated, he was pretty high and didn't want to get hurt. Yet, as Alfred continued his chant of "Jump! Jump! Jump!" he couldn't help but do so. He regretted the decision very much. He flew through the air ungracefully and landed with a thud.

He let out a pained whimper as he cradled his shin, the skin dirty and scraped while his ankle swelled. Alfred's eyes widened and he flew down the slide, running toward his brother in seconds. "Mattie! Mattie!" he yelled out worriedly as he came to his side.

"Alfie...It hurts!" Matthew whined, tears streaming down his dirty face.

"I'm sorry! What if I kiss it better?" He asked hopefully, looking into the pain filled blue violet eyes.

Matthew nodded and Alfred quickly pressed two kisses on his skin, one on his shin, the other on his ankle.

"Better... but it still hurts." Matthew murmured and Alfred frowned. "Can we go back?"

Alfred didn't like the idea. They hadn't found their parents and now they would be caught because there was no way the nuns would believe Matthew got hurt in his sleep. Still, Alfred knew that his brother was more important then his plan so he nodded.

"Can you walk?" Alfred asked, offering his hand. Matthew took it and hauled himself up, whimpering as he put weightt on his bad foot. He lifted it up and hobbled with Alfred's help.

Alfred held his brother tightly to keep him from falling while also looking around. How did they get here again? He didn't remember. He started to panic and decided to just get out of the park the easier way, along the path to the entrance instead of through the woods, for Matthew's sake.

Once outside, he tried to figure out in what direction the orphanage was. Everything looked the same though. Matthew gazed at him expectantly and Alfred, always the hero, took action. He decided to turn left. Not the best idea. He didn't recognize anything and he was getting tired and Matthew was whimpering more. The scenery soon turned to townhouses, all dark and foreboding. He bit his lip and knew they would have to stop soon.

Then he saw one of the homes had a light on inside. Maybe they would help! With renewed hope he hurried his steps, half carrying his brother toward the warm home. Matthew was less certain of the house, there seemed to be graffiti on it and the yard was a mess. Alfred took no notice and set his brother down on the steps at the door. The blue eyed boy stretched up on his tippy toes and rang the doorbell four times quickly.

There were footsteps inside and hushed voices. Alfred waited impatiently, wondering if he should ring again. The curtains shielding the window beside the door opened slightly, revealing angry green eyes. Alfred waved a chubby hand nervously. Were these people mean? Now he was getting second thoughts. The door opened quickly revealing a tall (in Alfred's opinion) blond man. His green eyes were no longer angry but wide in surprise.

"Hello Mister. Mattie's hurt can you help us? We're lost." Alfred explained, nudging at the boy next to him who had resumed clutching his leg. The man hesitated, still confused when another man pushed his way into the doorway. This man was about the same height as the other, blond too but it was longer and wavier. His eyes were blue and he had a stubbly chin.

"Well? Can we come in?" Alfred pressed when he received no response from the confused adults. Were they stupid or something? Matthew let out a pained whimper and that seemed to wake the men up.

"Er...Right, I suppose." The first one said quickly, his accent was foreign to Alfred's ears but he didn't say anything. Instead he grinned up at him and helped Matthew up and into the home. The two adults shared a glance before the second one kneeled down in order to face the two.

"What happened?" This one had an even stronger accent but again Alfred ignored it.

"Mattie fell of the swings." Alfred replied innocently, receiving a glare from his brother. Matthew didn't respond though, he didn't normally talk in front of strangers.

"Ah... May I see?" he continued and Matthew reluctantly removed his hands from his wounds. The man frowned. "Its only a scrape but I think you've twisted your ankle..." He mused.

"Is he gonna have to have it cut off?" Alfred asked suddenly, worry filling his eyes. Not as fearful as Matthew's suddenly became as he retracted his leg. The man laughed lightly, standing up again.

"Non, do not worry. Just some ice should do." He responded, heading toward the kitchen. The other man took his place, kneeling to their height.

"So, who are you two little lads?" He asked.

"I'm Alfred and this is my brother Matthew." Alfred introduced and the younger nodded.

"And you're family name? Where do you two live?"

"We don't have a family. We're looking for one though! We live at St. Peter's Orphanage!" He declared, happy that he remembered the name.

The others eyes softened sightly and he smiled.

"What's your name?" Alfred asked curiously and the other blinked.

"I'm Arthur Bonnefoy and he's Francis."

"Cool. Is one of you married? Do you want to be our daddy? And your wife could be our mommy?" Alfred asked bluntly, the man seemed nice enough and he _really _wanted a family.

Arthur reddened slightly and glanced over at the other man in the kitchen. "Actually, Francis and I are married."

"Both of you? Where are your wives?" Alfred asked, looking around the small home.

"Erm... Well we're married to each other."

Alfred blinked a few times in confusion. "I didn't know two boys could get married... I thought it had to be a mommy and a daddy. Not a daddy and a daddy." He mused aloud.

Arthur wasn't sure how to respond, straightening as Francis returned with a bag full of ice for Matthew.

"So... Then can you be our daddy and daddy?" Alfred continued. The pair blinked and looked at each other before turning back to the bright blue eyed boy.

"Er..." Arthur began, unsure how to react to the boy's behavior.

"See it be perfect. No mommy and daddy want us so maybe a daddy and a daddy will!" Alfred, insisted eyes bright and hopeful. Again the two adults traded looks.

"Please? Pretty please? We want a family real bad!" Alfred continued, almost desperately.

"...Let's get you two washed up alright? Can't have that cut get infected." Arthur responded, quickly.

"Eu..Oui, and then we will call your orphanage..." Francis continued, leaning down to pick up the wounded boy.

"To adopt us?" Alfred asked hopefully, holding his arms up in order to have Arthur pick him up too. Arthur acquiesced.

"One thing at a time Alfred." He answered, much to Alfred's disappointment. The pair carried them up the stairs to a small bathroom, setting them down on the floor.

"Can you wash yourselves?" Arthur asked.

"Sister Mary always washes us." Alfred answered and Arthur sighed.

"Alright then."

Francis turned on the water, getting it nice and warm before plugging the drain. As the tub filled, Arthur helped undress Alfred while Francis, being more careful, undressed Matthew. It wasn't as awkward as Arthur had first thought it would be, Alfred filled the silence with his chatter about the orphanage, boredom, superheroes and how he would be an awesome daddy.

Arthur had always wanted children, always dreamed of marrying a nice women and having kids that looked up to him. Sadly though, Francis came along and ruined all his plans. The dream of children was quickly destroyed. Yet now... Now a pair of young boys looking for a family had stumbled onto their home. It was so odd and shocking. Especially because the boys seemed unfazed at the idea of two fathers, too eager to have some sort of family.

But this was an important decision and he couldn't just promise the trusting child that he would adopt him. Life was much more difficult than that. But, as they washed the twins carefully, Arthur couldn't help but warm up to the small boys. Alfred was so happy and bubbly, giggling as the water ran down his hair. Matthew seemed sweet, quiet and trusting as he let Francis untangle his wavy hair.

Once clean the two were taken out of the bathtub and dried off with towels. "And that's why I didn't eat the caterpillars, even if the others dared me." Alfred had finished one of the many stories he had insisted on telling as he was washed. "They were huge! As big as your furry eyebrows." Arthur bristled and Francis began laughing, even Matthew cracked a smile.

"My eyebrows are not huge!" Arthur snapped indignantly and Alfred bit his lip quickly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Please still adopt us. You're really nice!" Alfred quickly pleaded, desperately trying to keep them on his good side. It broke Arthur's heart to see the boy so desperate for a family.

"It's alright Alfred. I'm not mad."

"Ok, good." Alfred breathed a sighed of relief.

"Arthur, ils ont besoin des vetements." _(they need clothes.) _Francis whispered, picking Matthew up, wrapped in a towel.

"Right..." Arthur murmured picking Alfred up also and taking the two to their bedroom. They set the twins down on the beds before they went through their closets.

Arthur pulled out two of his smaller shirts, handing them to the boys who put them on. They were huge on them.

"I'll go put their clothes in the wash." Francis said, leaving the room as Arthur handed them the smallest shorts he could possible find. They were still huge. The pair looked quite adorable as their tiny bodies drowned in the clothing. Arthur smiled warmly down at the. Francis came back up with Matthew's ice pack and placed it on his ankle.

"What was your orphanage called again?" Arthur asked.

"St. Peters Orphanage." Alfred repeated. "Are you going to call them to adopt us? Pretty please?"

Arthur gave him a smile, ruffling his blond hair. "We'll see." Alfred grinned, liking how the others fingers felt in his hair. It was comforting. "But now it's time for you two to go to sleep." Alfred pouted but decided not to argue. They might not adopt them if he did. So, instead he let the two men tuck him and his brother in before shutting off the lights and leaving.

"Well Mattie? What do you think?" he whispered.

"They're nice..." Matthew mumbled sleepily.

"Yeah... I hope they adopt us. Then we can be a happy family."

Matthew snuggled closer to his brother's warmth. "Hmm... I'd like that"

They both soon drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Downstairs, a hushed conversation was currently taking place. Arthur and Francis had retired to the kitchen.

"Francis what are we supposed to do?" Arthur whispered.

"Je ne sais pas. They are such sweet children..." _(I don't know)_

"... What if we do adopt them?" Arthur asked hopefully. Francis bit his lip.

"Are we ready to raise children Arthur? And the orphanage... It's Christian. Do you think they would let us?"

"We could try." Arthur insisted.

"I don't know..." Francis murmured skeptically.

"Come one frog. Don't tell me they didn't warm your heart." Arthur insisted. Francis looked up at the nickname. Arthur had not called him that for a long time, not since they had been forced to move here. This horrid place he wished they could just leave. The place that had stolen Arthur's fire. He caught a glimpse of the flame now, though, in the dull green eyes. He would do anything to have it come back.

"Then, let us try." Francis agreed, watching Arthur grin at him. Soon they had broken out the yellow pages, searching for St. Peters Orphanage.

* * *

"Anyway, so it took like three months but they finally adopted us." Alfred finished, looking up at the ceiling. Ivan stayed quiet for a while, wondering why Alfred had been given such a nice childhood. But something was nagging onto him.

"Why was your English father sad? Why did they not like their home?" Ivan asked curiously. Alfred stiffened and drew his legs closer to himself defensively.

"Just cause..." Alfred murmured, he didn't want to talk about _that. _Especially not now with Papa hurt. "Can we end the conversation?" He echoed Ivan's words and the Russian nodded in understanding.

Ivan wondered what Alfred was hiding. Surely it couldn't be as bad as his own secrets. It was difficult to top murder. Still, he respected his privacy, for now. Soon though, he was determined to find out.

The door creaked open and they looked up to see Arthur's face popping in. "The snow has stopped. I know it is late but I'm going to the hospital. Are you coming?"

Alfred nodded quickly and jumped off the bed, Ivan followed. He guessed he would be going too.

* * *

And there we go.  
I hope this isn't poorly written... I had SO much homework and I'm half asleep but I didn't want to be late again.  
This chapter was going to be completely different but I found a good place to stick in the adoption story.  
And Francis lives on! :3  
Also Alfred is adorable as a child and I loves him.  
Teehee  
Next chapter is the hospital visit~

Also OMG Thirty reviews! I was pretty sure no one would review just to spite me for my request of fifty! But no! You guys are so awesome, I love you all. Speaking of awesome, Gilbert hasn't been very important lately... I'll try to correct that...  
Anyways, review! Review so we can reach 300 reviews!... Maybe I'll offer the three hundredth reviewer a one shot... I've seen authors do that... But my life is so hectic and I'm barely able to write this on time...  
But maybe it would help me practice my lemons... Because I know the lot of you are perverts who would request something smexy! *coughIwouldcough*  
We'll just have to see...  
Alright, I'll end this here. Review!~


	18. Chapter 17

It was late in the night when the four reached the hospital. Arthur restrained from driving fast on the slick roads, though his heart urged him to floor it all the way to Francis. Still, this was why Francis had been hospitalized, due to some careless fucking asshole driving like he owned the place. Or at least that's what Arthur assumed.

Matthew and Alfred were silent most of the trip, quite the feat for the American whose mouth never remained shut for more than five minutes. They watched the roads, their minds drifting to their Papa and not focusing on their surroundings. They were wide awake, the lateness of the time and the lack of food in their stomachs had little effect over their anxious bodies.

Ivan, on the other hand, was having difficulty keeping his eyes open. His lids seemed heavy, his large body slumping and he tried his best to stay up. He also tried to stop from yawning, the atmosphere around him seemed too tense to break it with one. Maybe he could just doze off for a few minutes...

No. He couldn't. What if he were to suffer his usual nightmare? Alfred would know, and his brother and father would witness it too. He didn't want them to know. If they knew, they would press and push for information. He didn't want to tell them anything.

He especially didn't want to tell Alfred. He was pretty sure murder was something frowned upon in every country and even though America was very different they must follow the same belief in the wrongness of homicide. He didn't want Alfred to be afraid of him, he was the only one that wasn't. Didn't want him to hate him, they were making such great promises.

He didn't want to lose him.

Ivan had never felt so attached to another human being other than his sisters. Was he just using Alfred to replace them while he stayed in the states? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that Alfred was trustworthy, spoke to him and he wanted him. Because that's how things worked in America. You met someone, you fought and then you had intercourse. Or at least that's what he had gathered from Alfred's french father.

So, he forced his eyelids open. He tried to focus on the passing scenery, but everything was the same and blurred together in his drowsy vision. The siren of sleep was humming in his ears, tempting him, luring him until he could feel its warm embrace, wrapping aroun-

"Ivan. We're here." Violet eyes snapped open as Alfred's voice broke through the veil of tiredness. He looked up to see that Arthur was already out of the car, almost running to the hospital from the parking lot. Matthew was close behind him and Alfred was about to follow when he remembered the others presence. Ivan looked away to unbuckled his belt and open the door. Alfred had already rushed toward his family.

Ivan felt out of place, standing alone in the parking lot. Why was he here? He didn't belong here. This was an affair between Alfred and his family. Not him. Maybe he should wait in the car and try and take a quick nap. Still, curiosity gripped him and his legs began to carry him toward the sterile building. It was the same one he had gone too for his broken nose.

He tightened the scarf around him, finding comfort in the warm embrace before entering the hospital. The lobby housed few people, the place seemed to be calm at the moment. He took slow steps before realizing he didn't know where he was meant to go. The family was long gone and he was left behind. Alone. He sighed and was about to turn back to just stay in the car when a timid voice caught his attention.

"Er...uh... A-are you Ivan Braginsky?"

Ivan stiffened and turned around, head tilting in confusion as he peered at the owner of the voice. It was a woman, a nurse, sitting behind the desk with a nervous smile on her face. His own twisted smile twitched at his lips as he nodded, padding up to her.

"Da, that is my name. How do you know it?"

She shrank back slightly, not meeting his dark eyes. He didn't like the idea of a stranger knowing his name. Not at all.

"Er...Well, the boy who just came here...With his angry father? He said a tall boy would come in by that name...He...He told me to tell you what room they were in." She explained herself with difficulty, wringing her hands out nervously.

Ivan's eyes widened fractionally, body tensing. So, Alfred expected him to follow, made sure he'd be able too. Even if he was no part of this... Ivan smile grew slightly and he ignored how the woman shivered.

"Da, what room?"

"uh...room 214"

Ivan left her quickly, walking with brisk strides and scanning the doors. He knew the 200s were on the second floor and quickly found the stairs. He didn't care for elevators, he found them small and annoying. What if the box were to fall while inside? Surely it was an invention for lazy Americans who couldn't surmise the effort to climb a few flights of stairs.

On the second floor he scanned the rooms, looking for the one that would house Alfred. Finally, he found it, the window facing the hallway showing him the family huddled around the bed. He hesitated. Maybe he should just wait outside... Maybe he wasn't meant to intrude. He didn't know what he was suppose to do. He was never very comfortable with love scenes of this sort.

Ivan had only ever been close to his sisters, no one else. Not his mother, who died giving birth to little Natalia, and never his father. He had created a thick barrier between him and others. Other people only brought pain and misery. It was his last shield and he preferred to keep it in tact. But...Alfred was weaseling his way through...and Ivan was surprised to find out he didn't mind. Alfred was different. He was annoying, hot headed and acted like a moron (though he wasn't stupid). Yet, he was lively, vibrant and happy. He was bright and colorful, so different from the dull gray of his life.

He wanted some of that warmth, he hated the cold. He had never realized how lonely he truly was, not until he had given up his scarf to Alfred. He had never felt so vulnerable, but he didn't regret it. He trusted Alfred, and that trust was rewarded. Alfred... Alfred was different than others. So far he had yet to cause him true suffering.

Violet eyes caught blue as Alfred peered behind his shoulder. He nodded in acknowledgment before turning back. Ivan took it as a sign he was welcomed to come in. He opened the door and stepped inside.

Matthew had his face pressed into wavy blond hair, body trembling slightly. Alfred stood next to him, a hand placed comfortingly on his shoulder while the other touched his Papa's arm. Arthur, much to Ivan's curiosity, was not touching his husband. Instead, his hands gripped the bar on the side of the bed tightly, his knuckles a strained white. His mouth was set in a straight line and his emerald eyes were dark with emotion he was determined to keep within him.

Ivan didn't like that. If he loved Alfred's french father then shouldn't he be crying, holding him or doing something? Why was he so angry all the time? He yelled constantly at his husband and at Alfred. He had never heard him say one nice thing to either of them. He didn't like it.

What if Alfred's British father was like his own? Father had been only cold and distant at first, after the death of Mother. But then he started to become angry. Started to drink more. Started to hurt him and his sister. Never Natalia, the two had made sure of that. Then..Then it got worse as Katyusha matured and she started to look more and more like Mother had... No. He needed to stop. He couldn't remember this now, not in front of Alfred and his family.

Still, he did not like Arthur. He was too cold toward his family, his loving family. He did not like it one bit. If he...If he was hurting Alfred... Well, then he couldn't be accounted for his actions.

Francis was sleeping, oblivious to his families presence. He did not look peaceful in his sleep. His eyebrows tilted as if in pain, mouth parted slightly. He had a bandage wrapped around his head, a few cuts on his cheek. His right arm was bandaged thickly and his right leg was in a hard white cast. There were deep blackish bruises on his left arm from what he could tell, though Matthew was obscuring his view.

As if on cue Matthew lifted his head up, wiping at his tear-stained face with his sleeve and sniffling. Alfred gave him a hug, whispering something into his ear. Matthew nodded and pulled away from the embrace. Arthur looked at them and didn't say anything. The twins gave him a sad smile before moving to leave the room. Ivan blinked in confusion as Alfred tugged at his coat sleeve, alerting him to come with them.

He obeyed, closing the door behind him and looking at the sad twins curiously.

"Why have we left?" he asked. Didn't they want to stay with their hurt father?

"Because, Dad needs his alone time with Papa." Matthew mumbled quietly, eyes trained on the floor. Ivan stared at him perplexed, wanting to know more. The twins didn't seem to want to disclose any information though.

"Lets go find a vending machine. I'm hungry." Alfred interrupted, wanting to leave their Dad alone. Matthew nodded and the pair began walking down the hall. Ivan looked back toward the room, finding the curtains drawn and frowned. He wondered what Arthur was planning to do that he needed such secrecy. He turned away to follow the fading teens, his questions left unanswered.

* * *

Arthur drew the curtains with trembling hands. He turned back around, looking at Francis lying unconscious on his bed. He hurried back over and hesitated when he reached the bed. He was never good at displaying emotions and he wasn't sure what to do.

"Dammit frog..." he whispered in a cracked voice as he leaned his head down. Wet drops fell onto the bed sheets near the others hand. He had the sudden urge to hold that hand. With shaky fingers he grabbed it, lacing his fingers with the others cold ones. Cold, so different from the warmth that usually seeped from the Frenchman.

Arthur brought the hand up and pressed a soft chaste kiss on the smooth skin. He felt almost like the knight in a fairy tale, the ones he used to spin out for the twins when they were little. Francis was like sleeping beauty, trapped in a curse and could only be saved through a kiss. His sad lips quirked slightly upward at the thought of Francis as the princess, with his stubble. The tears flowing down his face didn't match the smile.

Maybe... Maybe if he kissed him he would wake up and be ok. Maybe this was all some long twisted fairy tale... The other was a frog, and a frog needed to be kissed in order to become a prince. The blond leaned down and pressed his lips to the others. Nothing.

He pulled away with shaky breath, feeling stupid for believing such a fanciful thing. Francis was probably sleeping off all the medication he had been given. Kissing wouldn't wake him up.

He knew Francis was alright. The nurse had assured him. Still, he needed to hear the others voice, the smooth accented music that flowed from the others lips when he spoke. He needed to hear it. Fuck it. He was alone. He didn't care how bloody stupid and pathetic he looked.

He climbed onto the bed, laying on top of Francis' body with his face snuggling into the others neck. A hand fisted the medical gown the Frenchman was wearing, and his eyes squeezed shut as more tears wanted to come out.

"You... You promised you would annoy me forever. You can't just get out of it." Arthur hissed, ignoring how his voice trembled as he spoke.

Still, nothing.

He felt himself start to get desperate. Just a few whispered words. That's all he needed. Just a few.

"Francis...please wake up." he murmured pathetically, pleadingly. Thank God no one was here to see him. He kissed the others neck but still there was nothing.

"Say something. Anything. Please." he continued, sliding closer to the others face. "Make fun of my eyebrows. Call me stiff. Mock my cooking. Anything." He pressed his forehead against the others, begging the other to come back to him.

"Please...I-I...I love you" he whispered almost inaudibly. He hated saying that. It was so embarrassing, made him feel so vulnerable. The only thing worse was saying it in that bloody language.

"Je t'aime" He tried at the thought, their lips almost touching as he said it quietly. He kissed the other, willing him, pleading with him to kiss back. To wrap his arms around him, pull him close and kiss him deeply. To have to the other hand worm its way to his pants and start molesting him like always. Hell, he'd let him. He just needed Francis to wake up.

He kissed him more desperately, trying to get some sort of reaction. Nothing. He pulled away for breath, letting out a choked sob. He pressed his face into the others shoulder, breathing in his scent as his shoulders shook. Why wouldn't he wake up? Why was he always so difficult? Damn it all!

"...Pourquoi...pleurez-vous?" _(Why are you crying?)_ A voice croaked and Arthur stiffened, lifting his head up quickly. Blue slits were visible between heavy eyelids. The Brit stared at him, stared at him as his mouth transformed into a happy smile.

"You're ok..." he whispered, relief flooding him.

"Oui..." Francis responded weakly, head lifting up with a wince in an attempt to initiate a kiss. Arthur quickly stopped him, laying him back down and kissing him deeply. He reveled in the weak kiss back. He was back, he was ok. Francis was still with him.

It scared him how much he loved the french bastard, how much he needed him.

"Francis, don't you ever do that again. If you do I swear I'll bloody kill you." Arthur threatened though his eyes only showed relief. Francis smiled at him and nodded before his blue eyes scanned the room.

"Ou sont mes fils?" _(Where are my sons?)_ he asked. As much as he adored his husband his paternal instincts kicked in along with the need to see his precious boys.

"They left me alone with you..." Arthur responded, pressing another kiss to the French lips and feeling the others hands wrap around his waist loosely, weakly. "I'll call them...but..." His voice faltered and he looked into those beautiful blue pools that gazed at him fondly. "Can we stay like this a little longer?" he whispered, a light blush on his cheeks as he pressed his face into the others neck. Francis smiled, turning his head slightly in order to press a kiss to the others cheek.

"Bien sur." (_Of course)._

* * *

"Al...I think we're lost." Matthew said, looking around the white hallway that seemed to continue for forever and ever. They had been walking for ten minutes and the scenery around them had barely changed. They still hadn't found a vending machine and Matthew was started to regret not eating those pancakes he had made.

Alfred frowned, spinning around at the intersection they had reached. _Eenie meenie miney moe..._ He pointed to the hallway on his left. "There. I'm positive that that's the right way."

Matthew rolled his eyes, that hallway looked the same as all the rest. He severely doubted Alfred had any idea where he was even if he had been in this hospital many times before. Plus, due to the lateness of the hour, there were few people in the hallways to ask for help.

"Alfred, I do not believe food will be found in that direction." Ivan spoke up for the first time. The twins looked at him and Alfred raised an eyebrow. Of course, Ivan just had to argue with him. Didn't he know the Hero was a master at navigation? He was just trying to starve him to death!

"And why do you think that?" he asked bitterly, blue eyes trying to stare down the taller male.

"Because the sign above states that vending machines are to be found in the other direction." Ivan explained easily, pointing to a sign hanging close to the ceiling. The twins both looked up and saw it, soon feeling quite stupid. Alfred especially so.

An adorable (in Ivan's eyes) blush bloomed on the American's cheeks, highlighting his blue eyes. His lips quirked downward into a pout and he glared angrily at the Russian. "Shut up! Its not our fault that your freakishly tall." He spat, turning away to stalk down the correct hallway. The commie just probably used his creepy powers to reorganize the entire hospital.

Ivan giggled at the blond's reaction, it was so amusing to ruffle the others feathers. Matthew rolled his eyes at his brother's behavior and quickly followed behind him. Ivan did also, letting out a silent yawn and wishing he could close his eyes for only a few moments.

Alfred's anger quickly dissipated when his eyes locked on the salvation to his current state of starvation. Food! His steps quickened until he stood in front of the glorious glowing machine. Now what to eat? There was such a variety to choose from.

Matthew was soon standing beside him, grimacing at the contents of the machine. He didn't much care for artificially flavored snack food. Unfortunately, it was his only option. With a sigh, he pushed past his still contemplating twin and chose to eat some Fritos.

Ivan looked at the vending machine curiously, not recognizing half of the names that resided within it. He wasn't that hungry so it didn't really matter. Though, he was interested on what Alfred would finally choose. The American seemed to be putting a lot of thought into this.

Finally, Alfred seemed to make up his mind. He dropped his quarters in the slot and pressed the two buttons. Ivan's violet watched the movement of one of the coils, the one holding the Cheese Curls. Though, for some reason, the coil stopped and the snack hung precariously from its perch.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me." Alfred growled, glaring at the damn bag. This always happened to him! And Matthew laughing at him was not helping! He kicked the side of the machine angrily, nothing happened. He gritted his teeth, he was starving! What a piece of crap.

"Mattie! Shut up and help me!" He yelled getting down in order to see if he could grab the snack. His hand weaved expertly through the slot but the cheesy goodness was just out of reach.

Ivan watched the whole fiasco in amusement, wondering if this happening was normal. Matthew was now giggling softly but made no move to help his twin. Only ate his Fritos with emphasized noises of pleasure that only made Alfred angrier. It was through this that Alfred's cell phone rang.

With an irritated noise Alfred straightened himself up and pulled out his cell phone. "Yeah?" There was a pause and Alfred seemed to stiffen, Matthew quieted and watched his brother curiously. Alfred hung up the phone and pushed it back into his pocket. "Papa's awake." he alerted, a smile appearing on his face.

Matthew's eyes widened and before Ivan could blink the pair were running down the hall, Alfred's quest for food forgotten. Ivan furrowed his brows in confusion. Alfred had seemed so focused on getting the snack but had dropped it immediately. He wondered what the other would say if he were able to retrieve the cheese snack for him. It couldn't hurt.

He looked toward the machine sitting innocently in front of him. He decided to do what Alfred did first. He kicked the side. Nothing. Kicked it harder. Nothing. The Russian frowned, seeing how this could frustrate someone easily. He probably could break the glass and get it...But that might mean getting blood on his hands. He shivered at the thought, taking a deep breath to calm himself. What if he shook the machine?

Gloved hands gripped the edge of the machine and pushed it forward before pulling it back, shacking it violently. Nothing. What if he broke the glass carefully, mindful of not getting hurt? For some reason the risk seemed small compared to the outcome of Alfred liking him more. He looked around for something to break the glass with, not wanting to endanger his hands.

Nothing in his surroundings seemed useful. He sighed, lifting up his foot, clad in a thick boot, and smashed it into the glass. Shards fell around him with a crash as he stepped away quickly. He looked at his hands, no scratches, no cuts, no blood. Everything was ok. He leaned forward, plucking out the American's selected snack and retraced his steps down the sterile walls, his smile back in place. Hopefully, Alfred will be happy.

* * *

Arthur hung up his cell, putting it back in his pocket and looked down at the Frenchman. For some reason Francis was now frowning at him.

"What?" Arthur asked.

"I've just realized I'm going to die from sexual denial." He murmured sadly. "I can't instigate anything in my current state and you are too stiff to start anything. How I'm going to suffer." He continued dramatically, his eyes the saddest blue as he looked up at his husband.

Arthur reddened and smacked the others arm angrily (but not as hard as normal). "You pervert. Focus on getting better. Not the next time we can shag!"

The door was thrown open as Matthew and Alfred pushed themselves in. The couple looked over at their sons surprise. In moments, Francis had two teenagers (taller than him mind you) practically on him. Matthew was hugging him tightly, murmuring things to himself while Alfred was speaking excitedly and in his face. Thankfully, Arthur succeeded in pulling the two away and allowing the patient room to breath.

Francis let out a warm laugh, looking up at his two boys who seemed so relieved. He had to constantly insist that he was fine and there was nothing to worry about. The twins merely continued talking to him, usually at the same time, making it difficult for the Frenchman to understand what they were saying. All it did was remind him how much he loved them both.

The moment was interrupted by a timid knock. Four pairs of eyes turned to the door that slowly opened, revealing Ivan. Francis wondered why he was here and flashed a questioning look at his husband who responded with a gesture of 'I'll tell you later'.

Ivan didn't say anything, merely locking eyes with the American and shaking the snack bag in his hand. Blue eyes widened and quickly came toward him. "Ivan! You got them!" Alfred cried out happily, grabbing the bag from his gloved hands.

"Da." Ivan answered simply.

"How?"

"That is of little importance."

Alfred raised a brow skeptically before his eyes were attracted to something glittering in the light. He looked down at the others brown boots, spotting a clear shard embedded in the fabric.

"Is...Is that glass?" He asked incredulously. Ivan looked down also, pulling the shard out easily with a shrug. He spotted a trash can and threw it away, examining his boot for anymore glass.

Alfred stared at him and then at the orange bag in his hands. Had... Had Ivan actually broken the vending machine in order to get him his Cheese Curls? What a psycho! Then, why was he smiling? Alfred flushed slightly when he realized and tried to stop in vain. He was probably smiling because he was that hungry. Yeah. That was it. Not because Ivan had gone to all that trouble for him. Nope. Not at all.

"When can I leave this place?" Francis asked, turning to Arthur curiously and bringing the attention back to him. He didn't quite understand the significance of disgusting artificial snacks.

"The nurse said you can be discharged tomorrow." The Brit replied. Frankly, he'd rather have the frog come home now. Not because he didn't like the idea of sleeping by himself in that big bed of theirs, nor because he actually missed the infuriating Frenchman. Only because it would save him gas money. That was it.

* * *

The four left the hospital a little while later, climbing into the car and driving back home. Ivan was having an even harder time falling asleep, his eyelids begging him to succumb to his nightmares. The passing scenery did nothing to alleviate his urge, instead he turned his drooping violet eyes on the American sitting beside him.

Alfred had begun eating his Cheese Curls happily. Eyes closed in pleasure as he ate them slowly, savoring the taste on his tongue. Ivan watched intensely as the American sucked on his orangy fingers after every curl, his tongue darting out to lick the tips. Ivan quite like the image. Especially when Alfred had managed to get his entire index finger coated in the cheesy substance, forcing him to take the entire length into his mouth. He sucked on it slowly, pulling it out before pushing it back in until he was satisfied.

Ivan felt more awake now. Watching, transfixed, on the show before him. He licked his lips unconsciously and shifted in his seat slightly. His pants were starting to get uncomfortable. Alfred seemed to finally notice the burning stare and looked over at him. Of course, he misunderstood completely.

"Oh. Are you hungry? Do you want some?" He asked, offering up a curl. Ivan had gotten them for him so it only seemed fair. Ivan stared at the offered curl and bent his head down. He wrapped his lips around the morsel, relishing the feeling of Alfred's fingertips slipping into his mouth before pulling away slowly. Alfred stared at him, eyes wide and cheeks colored dark red with embarrassment.

"D-don't eat them like that! You're not getting anymore now." Alfred said hurriedly, turning away and eating another one. The hell was the others problem anyway? It was almost as if he had done that on purpose. Which was impossible. It wasn't as if Ivan liked him or anything.

Alfred stiffened. Blue eyes creeping to look over at the other... Or did he? Alfred quickly repressed the question, heartbeat quickening. No! That was impossible. Ugh that would be so gross! The commie definitely did not like him like _that. _And he definitely did not reciprocate those kinds of feelings. Oh ew!

He would never think of the freak in such a way. Ever.

Still, the thought lingered in the back of his mind no matter how hard he tried to stop it.

* * *

Voila! Hope it's good... Had some trouble writing this along with having WAY TOO MUCH HOMEWORK TO BE HEALTHY.

Anyway, OMFG 275 reviews makes me so happy. :D  
You guys have no idea how proud you make me feel. I dont think I would of gotten this far without you. I mean I copied this entire story up to last chapter and put it in one word document. 161 pages. without authors note. Holy shit! Thats so amazing! So thank you so much for encouraging me to do this!  
I love you guys forever and ever! And I'll write the 300th reviewer a oneshot with the pairing of their choice. Though, it might take me a while to do it.

One last thing, I posted a new story called Sentenced. Its a RusAme but more humorous. Dont worry, my focus is on this story and that ones going to update sporadically. But tell me what you think of it. I honestly got more reviews than I expected...

Okay this note is getting super long. Anyway, next chapter the Awesomness returns (where has he been lately?) and we delve into Ivan's nightmares...


	19. Chapter 18

Ivan fell asleep almost instantly as he touched the sleeping bag on the floor. Finally! His heavy eyes could fall and he could find some rest. Alfred watched the other boy sleep, looking peaceful and not at all like his usually creepy self. He almost...almost seemed like a small innocent child when he slept. What a weird thought.

It was late in the night when they all returned home but Alfred knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. How could he? He was still pretty worried, even after seeing Papa and his nerves were still hyper from all the events of the day. He wondered what Mattie was doing...

The American left his bedroom, leaving the lights off for the sleeping teen as he went downstairs. He found his brother lying on the family room floor, a large book opened in front of him. The younger twin didn't look up until the other spoke.

"Whatcha doing?" Alfred asked as violet blue eyes turned to him.

"Looking at our photo album." Matthew murmured, squirming to the side so his brother could lie down next to him. Alfred accepted the invitation, lying on his stomach, his side pressing against his brother's lightly. He could understand why Matthew would want to look at the album, it was filled with happy pictures of Papa.

He looked at the page his brother was on and smiled. Most of the pictures were of himself, smiling brightly as an adorable little boy. Man was he an awesome kid. Matthew was in a few of them, mostly in the background because Alfred was kind of a camera whore when he was little. Fewer were of Arthur who was sometimes captured candidly or sitting with the twins. The twins were pretty sure that Papa had his own collection of pictures of Dad, though they weren't as...appropriate.

"I remember that." Alfred commented, pointing at one of the photos. It showed himself, swinging on a swing and grinning at the camera while Francis, with a pleasant smile, pushed Matthew on the neighboring swing. "That was when we went to that park for the first time. And we pushed Dad down the slide right into a mud puddle." He added with a laugh.

Matthew chuckled lightly, remembering the amusing snapshot of their childhood. It had been Papa's idea to do so and it was quite worth the rant they received for it. "I think Papa took a picture of it."

They turned the page, the first picture showing a very surprised Englishman, being pushed down the small slide backwards by small hands. The next showed a still surprised Englishman, sitting in a puddle of mud, covered in the substance. The next, he was angry, glaring at the camera, or more precisely, the cameraman.

Then Alfred had started rolling in the mud puddle claiming he could be dirty because Daddy was dirty. Arthur soon accused Francis of being a bad influence and they started arguing. Afterward, the odd family had left the park and returned home. Once there, Francis had tried to convince Arthur to let him wash him as 'punishment' which the Englishman flatly refused. A few minutes later the twins could tell that their Papa had succeeded in getting in the shower by the surprised scream their Dad made.

Alfred smiled, life had been quite nice. Matthew turned the page and they both frowned. No, Alfred did not quite like this part. The pictures showed their old home, the window broken for the first time. A time skip seemed to happened, showing a brand new home, the home they still lived in.

There hadn't been any incentive to take pictures at that time, nobody wanted to preserve those memories. Matthew turned the page quickly, seeing themselves as 8 year olds, happy once more. Their birthdays, their first days at school. Matthew's smile grew slightly as Gilbert soon became a recurring character in the story of their lives. Grinning mischievously as he tried to get in every single picture.

The only one he wasn't grinning in was the time they found an abandoned little chick in their backyard with a broken wing. Gilbert had almost been to the point of tears, though he refused to admit it. He held the tiny bird in his hands as Matthew had pleaded with Papa to fix it. The grin returned as Gilbert showed proudly the small bird with its wing in make shift brace of sorts.

Many pictures afterward had shown the bird sitting upon the albino's snow white hair. Gilbert had always had some weird bond with animals. The chick eventually flew away as it grew, much to the albino's disappointment. Matthew wondered if Gilbert still thought of the little bird...

The twins looked up at the sound of footsteps, seeing their father come in with his embroidery basket.

"Hey Dad." They greeted as the man sat down on the sofa. "Can't sleep?"

"I blame the frog... What are you two up to?" He answered, looking down at them curiously.

"Looking at our photo album." They answered together before looking back down at the volume.

"Ah" Arthur nodded, taking out his needle and threading it skillfully. He took out his fabric and started to work. Alfred pursed his lips, his hands supporting his head as he looked up at his father.

"Dad...could you tell us a story?" He asked awkwardly.

"I thought you were too old for stories." Arthur teased with a small smile, not slowing his movements.

"Not that kind of story. I mean... Like a story of you and Papa when you were dating... A happy one..."

Arthur's green eyes softened and he halted his needlework to look at his sons. He thought a moment, searching his mind for something to offer the boys. Most of his recollections were either embarrassing or inappropriate. Something happy? Oh, wait. That was a nice memory.

"What about our proposal story?"

The two boys grimaced, red blooming on their cheek as they glared at their father. "We know that story! Papa proposed and you did it like rabbits 'til dawn." Alfred spat hurriedly, not really wanting the graphic visual Papa usually described to stain his mind once more. Really, Papa was way to traumatizing with his stories...

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I mean the real story."

Two pairs of eyes blinked curiously. "The real story?" They questioned at the same time and Arthur smiled.

"Yes, the frog doesn't like the real one because he wasn't the one to propose."

"What?" Two identical cries, the pair sat up and leaned in to hear the story. Papa didn't propose? But, but that didn't make any sense!

"Yes. I'm the one who proposed to the damn Frenchman. No matter how romantic he claims to be, the truth was he was afraid of commitment. I can see why, his single life wasn't very...monogamous." Arthur grimaced in distaste before turning back to his sons. "He always used to tell me how one day he would sweep me off my feet and take me to a beautiful church to be wed in. Or that fireworks would bloom in the skies as he placed a ring on my finger. One was that we would be in a field of roses, the moon shining down on us as he asked for my hand. This was all a bunch of nonsense though." He chuckled. "I soon realized the frog was never going to work up the nerve to do any of it. So, I decided to do it myself."

"Way to go Dad! Be the man for once." Alfred interrupted with a mischievous grin. Arthur glared at him for his comment and didn't grace it with a response. Even if he found himself to be the bottom most of the time didn't mean he was less of a man!

"Anyway, during one of our dates I led him toward that Italian Restaurant we first went to. Francis was smiling at the place as I bent down. He thought I was tying my shoe and yes, I was going down on one knee to propose. If I was going to do this, then I would do it the proper way, the gentlemanly way." His smile grew slightly as he continued recalling the memory. "He was so surprised when I took his hand in my own. He just stared down at me as I asked him. After I told him to hurry up he answered me quickly, excitedly and wrapped me in a hug and kiss. Then I realized what I had just done and that I was going to be stuck with bloody frog forever."

"Aww, Daddy does love Papa!" Alfred tease, earning him an angry glare along with a light blush.

"Of course I do. I wouldn't of married him if I didn't." He huffed, crossing his arms, not enjoying the light giggles his sons let out. Once they quieted, he patted the spots beside him for his sons to take. "Now then, why not bring the book up here?" he offered and the twins nodded.

The trio spent the rest of the night huddled on the sofa, gathered around a book of memories until finally sleep overcame them. It was a nice night.

Sadly, above them, Ivan wasn't having such a good night.

* * *

Darkness. Coldness. Surrounding him, suffocating him, strangling him, killing him. A vast blackness continued forever in front of him, never interrupted. Not a soul dotted the horizon, not a figure broke the darkness. He was alone.

Always alone.

He let out a piercing scream but heard nothing. His mouth opened and nothing came out. Silence. Deafening silence that burned his ears and darkness that burned his eyes. He yelled again, desperate for some sort of relief from the oppressing muteness. Nothing.

He started to run, footsteps silent on the hard ground as the background never changed around him. It felt as if he was running in place though his legs soon began to buckle from the effort. He fell to the ground in a quiet, noiseless heap. He was on his knees, looking around for some sort of escape, some sort of salvation. His breath, coming out quick and shallow, could be seen in the frigid air.

The silence fell away as he heard a buzzing in his ear, a low murmur that soon became a shrieking note. He covered his ears futilely, the sound permeating his hands to no avail. He screamed again, and this time the sound was heard, adding to the horrible cacophony crowding his ears.

Then, just as suddenly as it came, the noise was gone. Silence reigned once more as his body shook and his breath began to slow. His eyes, squeezed shut from the pain of the noise, opened slowly. Violet eyes widened at the sight of a face mere inches from his own. Cold, dark black eyes staring at him with such fury. Pale hair sat upon the deathly white face. Cruel smirk adorned the gaunt, skinny visage.

He screamed again, muscles cramped in fright as he tried desperately to _get away._ The figure lashed out quickly, gripping his wrists and pulling him back. His skin seared as the coldness of the mans fingers burned his flesh. He tried to wrench free but the hold only grew stronger, threatening to break his bone.

He whimpered pathetically, the man having the effect of turning him into a small child with only his presence. Fear dominated his mind as terrified tears rolled down his pale cheeks. He wanted him to go away, to go away and never bother him again. Why must he continue to torment him every night? The man seemed to be able to read his mind.

"You will never be rid of me." The voice seethed malevolently, his words dripping in venom. It permeated the others barriers, poisoning his mind and brought forth more hot tears.

"Go away. Please. Just go away!" He pleaded, his voice loud and throat raw from his screams.

A cruel smirk flashed upon the horrid face before he threw the other away, laughing as he hit the floor with a thud. The other sat up, drawing his knees up in a protective shell as he whimpered to himself. He knew he couldn't run, couldn't escape the man.

"You miss your sisters don't you? But you don't deserve to be with them. You're a murderer. Perhaps this is God's way of punishing you?" The other accused, enjoying the flinch his words caused.

The other shook his head desperately, not wanting to accept it. A muffled scream made him look up and he stiffened. His elder sister, trapped in the man's hold looking pleadingly at him.

"Katyusha!" He cried out standing up, only to have her fade was too late. He was alone again, alone with his tormentor.

"Katyusha is gone. When will you accept that she left you to be alone forever?" The man spoke but his voice came from everywhere in a loud whisper. Enveloping him so he couldn't fight it off.

"Nothing can save you. No one would want to save you. You're a murderer. You're alone and will always be alone. Clinging to your sanity as everything crumbles away."

"Stop!" He shrieked, covering his ears but in vain. The voice was already in his head, multiplying and breeding until it filled his skull with its words.

"Alone. No one will help you. No one will save you. No one could ever love such disgusting homicidal filth as yourself. You are doomed to isolation. Forever clinging on the very edge, and no one will ever help you up onto solid ground. You are forever alone."

He screamed again, as he crouched onto the ground in a desperate attempt to get away from everything. There was coldness, there was darkness and there was nothing.

* * *

Violet eyes snapped open as Ivan sucked in air and sat straight up. His chest was heaving, his skin shiny with sweat and his hair messy from rolling in his sleep. He relaxed as he noticed he was in Alfred's room. That he was okay and Alfred had not been there to witness his moment of weakness where he succumbed to his nightly terrors. He took in a deep comforting sigh and wrapped his scarf around his neck, finding comfort in the warm embrace.

The bed beside him was untouched and he began to wonder where Alfred actually was. He stood up quietly and left the room. He peeked into Alfred's brother's room to find it lacking the twins. He frowned in confusion and continued down the hall. He opened the master bedroom, even more confused to find that Alfred's British father was also absent. The guest bedroom yielded the same results.

He climbed down the stairs slowly, mindful of any noises and found the living room to have a light on. The lamp was the source of the low level light that shown in the dim room. It revealed the missing family to be on the couch.

Arthur sat in the middle, barely awake from what his slumped figure demonstrated. Using his lap as a pillow were Alfred and Matthew on opposite sides. Their blond hair fanned across his legs and their faces looked so peaceful. They were breathing evenly and slowly, both asleep. A thick book sat upon one of the small tables by the couch. Arthur's fingers stroked the boys hair softly, lovingly until they froze at the sound of Ivan.

"Oh, hello Ivan." Arthur whispered quietly, tiredly. A lazy smile graced his face, so different then his usual scowl. "I thought you were asleep."

"I was." Ivan answered, violet eyes focused on Alfred's sleeping form. His looking younger with the absence of his glasses, his hair splayed out like a golden halo. Ivan wanted to touch the strands, feel them in his own fingers before tracing his face, his noise, his soft lips. He had never had such an urge before.

"Well, since your here. Do you mind helping me? I'm afraid these two are much too big for me to carry to their rooms but you seem to be quite strong." Arthur asked, not bothered in the loss of a little pride when he was so tired.

"Da." Ivan nodded and fought back the urge to get Alfred first. He bent down and scooped up Matthew into his arms before carrying the sleeping form into his bedroom and setting him down on the bed. Arthur had followed him, setting to work at untying the sleeping teen's shoes. He did it with the skill of someone accustomed to such a job, though the last time had been when the shoes were much smaller. He pulled the covers over the younger twin and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. Matthew made soft noise before rolling onto his side tiredly.

Ivan went down to get Alfred. Thankfully, Arthur remained upstairs and Ivan found himself alone with Alfred's sleeping form. He bent down, touching the golden strands, finding them surprisingly soft. He touched the others cheek, a finger tracing his lips before moving down the unblemished neck. Alfred's body shivered, squirming slightly and Ivan pulled back. The teen made a muffled grumbling noise but did nothing more.

Ivan picked him up carefully, enjoying the feel of the warm body in his arms. He climbed the stairs slowly, finding Alfred to be lighter than he thought he'd be, though not as light as his brother. He deposited him on the bed where Arthur was waiting. The Englishman set to work on taking off his son's shoes, stripping the socks because he knew Alfred preferred to sleep without them.

After kissing him like he did Matthew, Arthur left the room. Ivan stared at Alfred as he slept with a small smile. He wanted to sleep next to him, to feel the warmth that seemed to exude from the American in waves. But he hesitated, Alfred had made it clear that he was unwanted in the bed with him. Usually, he wouldn't listen to others but because it was Alfred... He would respect his wishes. He settled back down on his sleeping bag and hoped for a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Matthew, Alfred and Ivan were getting ready to leave for the hospital. Arthur wanted them to pick Francis up as soon as possible and, since Toris' home was in the same direction as the medical building, they would drop Ivan off afterward.

Arthur refused to go, stating he had to do something... 'important'. The twins had reddened slightly, not really knowing what their father had in mind, though they were sure it was something inappropriate. Especially when they had been specifically told not to tell him that Arthur was preparing for his arrival. Ivan thought Arthur was being cruel again, not showing any semblance of sympathy for his hurt loved one. He still didn't like it.

The trio were about to leave when Matthew opened the door to reveal an albino with his fist raised, ready to knock.

"Matt!" Gilbert yelled out hugging the blond tightly and trying to contain the urge to kiss him. "Are you ok? Is Francis ok? The awesome one is here to make it all better!" He soothed in his loud voice. Red eyes locked on surprised blue and he quickly added, "Same for you Al." to cover himself. Couldn't have him suspecting anything.

Matthew laughed as he pulled away. "Yeah, I'm ok. We were just going to pick Papa up. Do you want to come?"

"Sure, want to make sure the old perv is okay." He grinned. Matthew rolled his eyes, unable to defend his Papa because sadly, he was a pervert.

The pair started talking to each other as they went to the car. Alfred followed with Ivan behind him, seemingly unnoticed by the albino. Matthew got in the driver's seat and Gilbert (after calling shotgun) got in beside him. Alfred huffed as he climbed into the back with the Russian.

"Woah... Whats the freak doing here?" Gilbert asked, surprised as red eyes locked on violet. Ivan gave him a creepy smile, he didn't like the loud one that seemed to hover around Matthew. He was quite annoying.

"He got stuck here because of the blizzard." Matthew answered, pulling out of the driveway carefully. Ivan gave the albino a smile dripping with malice and Gilbert quickly looked to Matthew again.

He had made sure to get to him as soon as he could after receiving the phone call last night where his boyfriend was crying over the potential loss of his father. Because of the stupid blizzard Gilbert couldn't even comfort him in person! It was so not awesome. But he was here now, and as soon as Ivan and Alfred left he was going kiss all the hurt away. Yeah...

The trip was loud, filled with a German voice along with American ones. Ivan remained silent, not really listening to the conversation and preferring to look outside. Really, to him, the self proclaimed Prussian was a nuisance who only filled the air with his incessant chattering. He wondered if he could shove something in his mouth to quiet him. Perhaps a shoe?

Before his thoughts could get darker they reached the hospital. They entered it quickly, asking for the release of Francis Bonnefoy. The nurse nodded and in ten minutes Papa sat in a wheelchair in front of them all.

"Bonjour! Hmm? Where is Arthur?" Francis asked with a tilt of his head. He had wanted to him to pick him up and kiss him.

"He needed to finish some work he was too worried to do yesterday." Alfred lied easily and Francis nodded absently. Arthur was known to be like that, much to his annoyance.

"D'accord. Well, let us go yes?" He said with smile, he really wanted to go home and get away from the hospital. And he wanted to see his stubborn husband who couldn't even find the time to pick him up! The nerve... he'd make sure to punish the Englishman...

Matthew nodded, beginning to wheel his Papa out to the exit. Gilbert walked beside him, talking to him animatedly about what had happened yesterday at his own home. Something about Feliciano wanting to go out and play in the snow during the storm and West having to physically restrain him to stop him from killing himself out there.

But, nothing was ever that easy for the Bonnefoy family as a nurse narrowed her eyes, peering at the Russian.

"Wait. That's him! The one who broke the vending machine!" The nurse accused suddenly, staring straight at Ivan. The Russian turned around slightly perplexed before he nodded in understanding. That's right, he had broken the machine in order to get Alfred's snack. He didn't think it was that big of a deal, though the woman seemed angry. He guess he'd have to pay for it or something.

Of course, Alfred had a different idea.

Alfred felt a little guilty because Ivan had broken the vending machine in order to get his snack. Now the other was going to be punished for it. That didn't seem very fair. Alfred, always the hero, decided to save Ivan from the cruel hands of the nurse. But, he didn't quite think things through. The idea of offering to pay for the damages himself didn't cross his mind until he was a few hallways away.

No, instead he had grabbed Ivan's wrist, yelled 'Run!' and bolted down the hall. He left behind a perplexed looking nurse, a cackling Prussian urging him on, a confused Papa and a disappointed brother. But no matter! He was the hero, saving the day!

"He's such a moron." Matthew sighed before turning to the now angry nurse. "I'm sorry for my brother's idiotic behavior. Can you add the damages to our bill?" He asked politely and she smiled. What a sweet boy. She nodded and did so before turning to some of the nurses idling around. She told them to go find the two boys and they set off searching.

Francis chuckled lightly, "Alfred does love to save others." He mused. "Anyway, wheel me to the car, Matthieu. Afterward, you can go find your brother. You can probably find him better than the nurses."

"Ok." Matthew agreed, he and his brother always could sense vaguely where the other was. He wasn't entirely sure why, he just assumed it was a weird twin thing.

* * *

Alfred weaved through the hallways, dragging a confused Ivan behind him. They passed startled doctors, nurses and patients alike as they flew by. He felt like an action hero from a movie, escaping the clutches of the evil minions as he rescued his leading lady. Wait...Did that mean Ivan was his leading lady? Wasn't he suppose to be the villain? Whatever, there were more important things to focus on.

The American's blue eyes darted around as he ran, looking for some place to hide. He grinned when he spotted a closet door. Without a word he threw it open, stuffed Ivan inside and himself before closing it shut. The room was small, much to small to house the both of them. Ivan winced as his back was pushed against shelving and his head hit against the hanging light bulb. Alfred was pressed against his chest, his back touching the door.

The pair panted from the impromptu escape, their hot breath mingling in the small dark space. Ivan felt Alfred squirm about before the dim light bulb lit the closet, he must have been searching for the switch.

"Alfred, why are we here?" Ivan asked because he was terribly confused at this sudden turn in events. Of course, he didn't much mind how Alfred was forced to press against him. The American was so very warm against him.

"Shh... We're hiding from the evil henchmen!" Alfred hissed back.

"...I do not understand." Ivan stated, tilting his head in confusion. Henchmen? Did Alfred hit his head somewhere during their flight from the nurse?

"Just shut up!" Alfred insisted. Was Ivan trying to blow their cover? Didn't he understand that the hero was trying his best to save him? They just needed to hide here for a while then sneak out the back. Perfect plan.

Ivan realized he wasn't going to get an answer and started focusing on their current predicament. Alfred seemed to be concentrating on his thoughts, not fully grasping how close they were. How he was basically pushed into the taller's chest. Ivan quite liked it and suddenly had the urge to touch the other, if only a little. It wasn't as strong as the urge last night, when he watched the other sleep so peacefully.

Russian hands lifted, running gloved fingers lightly up the American's hips and sides. Alfred let out a surprised giggle before swatting at the hand quickly. He blushed in embarrassment and sent a harsh glare at the smirking teen.

"The hell do you think you're doing?"

"Lifting my hand to scratch my nose." Ivan lied easily, interested in the others previous reaction to his light touches. "Did you just giggle?" What an amusing turn of events.

"I did NOT!" Alfred snapped quickly and didn't like how violet eyes narrowed, nor how the smirk grew. He took a step back finding his backside to be pressed against the door completely. He was trapped. Shit, this was probably some commie plot all from the beginning! How could he have fallen for it?

And suddenly he was attacked. Large hands grabbed at his sides, running along the sensitive skin and tickling it cruelly. Alfred started laughing at the light touches, squirming at the door and trying to get the hands to stop. His sides shook and his previous instructions of keeping silent were forgotten. "Stop! Please! Fine hahaha I'm t-ticklish!" He cried out, feeling tears prickle at his eyes. This was so not fair!

Ivan was enjoying this way to much. The way Alfred's body squirmed from _his _touches, how his body reacted against his will because of _him._ He liked it very much. And Alfred's laughs were quite contagious, the sound swelling something in his chest. He couldn't help but let out a few giggles himself.

Of course, like everything good in his life, Alfred was suddenly wrenched away from his grasp.

Ivan blinked in surprise as he was blinded by light and Alfred fell away. In a surprised yelp the American landed on the floor after the door was yanked open. He groaned on the cold tile, rubbing at his aching back. The light illuminated his red embarrassed face and his heaving chest as he tried to steady his breathing.

"Disgusting. Is this what they raised you to do?" One of the nurses sent to search for them spat furiously. Her hand still clutching the doorknob as she looked down at the hurt teen with unmasked repulsion. "Damn fagots raising fagot children." She hissed. Ivan didn't recognize the word, but from Alfred's reaction, he assumed it wasn't a compliment.

Laughter was quickly silences, its sudden absence made anger bubble in Ivan's chest toward the woman. Still, he remained still, unsure why he felt this way nor how to reacts.

Alfred had gotten to his feet quite quickly once hearing the nurses accusations. He ignored the pain from his fall and sent her a venomous glare, ready to defend himself.

"The hell is that suppose to mean?" He growled out, giving the woman a chance to redeem herself.

"You know perfectly well."

Alfred gritted his teeth, what a bitch. "First off, my dads are fucking awesome and what they do is none of your fucking business. Second, Ivan and I weren't even doing anything. And even if we were it has nothing to do with you. So why don't you just shut the fuck up and keep your opinions to yourself!"

"What a filthy mouth, though it suits a filthy fagot boy like yourself." the woman sneered, undeterred. Alfred was absolutely fuming. He was sick of this kind of treatment, she had no right to fucking criticize him for something like that. He wanted to punch that fucking face in-

"Alfred."

The American turned around at the soft call, seeing his brother standing there. His twin wore a small disappointed frown. Alfred felt his anger leave him. Mattie was right, he shouldn't give the damn woman the pleasure to see him angry from her words. He should just leave.

"Yeah, I know..." he sighed, beginning to walk toward his brother. Ivan followed, still confused over what exactly was happening. But the woman felt like throwing just one more punch.

"You know, it's quite disgusting. Two fagots each get a little boy to play with. Tell me, did you enjoy it when they touched you?"

And Alfred saw red. "You fucking bitch! How dare you even insinuate that! Papa and Dad would NEVER touch us!" He screeched, ready to fucking kill her.

"Alfred stop!" Matthew pleaded, the only thing preventing Alfred from doing something he would later regret. He held him around the waist, keeping him away from the nurse. The feat was quite difficult with Alfred thrashing around in his arms.

"Let me punch her Mattie! Just once!" Alfred hissed out as the woman walked away slowly, mockingly. How dare she? Oh she was going to fucking pay, he would kill her for even thinking something so sick!

"Let it go Alfred. Hurting her wont change anything." Matthew insisted.

"Would it be better if I were to punch her?" Ivan inquired, reminding the two of his presence. Alfred obviously wanted to hurt the women but for some reason couldn't, maybe he would enjoy it if he did it himself? Alfred quieted down letting out a loud sigh.

"No Ivan. Lets just go home. I'm tired of all this fucking drama."

Ivan blinked repeatedly but nodded and followed the twins out the hospital and into the car. He had a feeling he wouldn't be enlightened on what had exactly happened any time soon.

* * *

The dinner table was quiet and tense. Francis had been confused as his sons came back from the hospital agitated and silent. They refused to tell him anything as they went to drop Ivan off. When they returned home they still kept quiet and instead brought him to his bedroom door. Alfred was usually very expressive when angry, ready to rant about all his apparent troubles. Yet, this time, he remained mute and deep in thought. Though, his face showed his displeasure and anger.

Gilbert had left after Matthew had asked him to. Stating that he wasn't in the mood to hang out with his awesomeness. The tense atmosphere surrounding the twins was nearly tangible and Gilbert obeyed his boyfriend without many protests.

In the master bedroom was a surprise. Ah, so that's why Arthur had remained at home. Francis smirked as he ate up the sight of his husband, wearing a revealing nurse outfit. The white fabric hugged his slim form tightly, cutting off a little past the hips. His eyes were dark and he wore predatory smirk that sent shivers down the Frenchman's spine. The Brit was probably still mad at being called a prude, which meant they were going to have amazing sex.

So, Francis pushed back his sons problems to the back of his mind. He would interrogate them at dinner, right now he had an urgent medical appointment with Nurse Kirkland. He had been having some very strange pains in his lower regions. Perhaps the kind nurse could examine him thoroughly?

A few (mind blowing) rounds and a shower later he was faced with two gloomy sons at the dinner table. Arthur was immediately perplexed, wondering why the twins were in such a mood. He had remained in the dark about the twin's current mood and when he asked them he was also refused. The Englishman was much more impatient than his french counterpart.

"Alfred, what's wrong. Tell us already." Arthur finally demanded, loosing his patience.

Alfred let out a sigh, stabbing at his chicken and hunching forward. "...This nurse was being a bitch."

"Language, Alfred" Arthur reminded, almost on instinct.

"But she was!"

"What did she do?" Francis asked in a sweet voice.

"She was yelling at me because she thought me and Ivan were...doing things. Which is totally gross cause he's a commie! Anyway, she said that since we were raised by gays, and she used a much nastier word, then we had to be gay. So I started yelling at her and I may have cursed but she totally deserved. Then she called me filthy. Mattie came and stopped me from ripping her face off. We were leaving when she...She said that since you guys are gay then...you must of like...touched us and stuff. So then I got really angry and started yelling and wanted to attack her but Mattie dragged me away and that's that." Alfred finished, glaring at his plate and stabbing more poultry. Fucking bitch ruining his entire day with her damn words.

"...What a bloody bitch." Arthur spat, eyes narrowed as he tightened his grip on his fork. "Must of been the same harlot who threatened to stop treating Francis."

"Quoi?" Francis asked alarmed, they were going to stop treating him? Arthur waved a hand at him, a signal that he would fill him in later.

"Alfred you mustn't let them get to you like that, alright?" Arthur cautioned, after a moment. If you reacted you were just playing into their hands.

"Yeah, I know." Alfred nodded tiredly. " It's just... I never heard that last accusation..."

"They're a lot of ignorant people out there Alfred, who like to think horrible things." Arthur sighed. Francis touched his hand under the table reassuringly and squeezed it. Arthur returned the action but made no move to acknowledge it otherwise.

"I...I remembering hearing that..." Matthew murmured quietly as all eyes fell on him. He stared at his food a moment before continuing. "At the old neighborhood...But I didn't know what it meant back then..."

They all grew silent and picked at their food as the tense atmosphere crackled around them.

* * *

Sorry this is a day late. Life is crap sometimes. I hope you guys had a Happy Halloween!

I'm not feeling to great at the moment. I'm just having constant headaches and am so tired. *Sighs*  
Anyway I hope this chapters good because my head is pounding and that affects my writing.  
I really hope I don't disapoint since everyone always leaves me such nice reviews.  
I love you all!  
Short authors note is short because I'm all bleh.

Review, because I love you so much that I update when I feel like crap. :)


	20. Chapter 19

THUMP

Matthew groaned, rolling over in his bed and tried to cover his face with his pillow. He needed to sleep just a little longer. He needed it. He had barely gotten any sleep in the past 48 hours and he needed the sweet relief of unconsciousness. Please Mr. Sun, could you hold on for five more minutes?

THUMP

Matthew groaned again, curling into a ball and tangling the sheets with his legs. What the fuck was that noise anyway? Why couldn't he just have a little rest? If it was Alfred trying to get into his room he was going to fucking kill him. Didn't he understand that he needed to sleep or he was going to have murder someone?

THUMP THUMP

Twice, in quick succession caused the younger twin to flinch. Damn it all. He flung the cover off him angrily and stumbled onto his legs. Only in a pair of simple red boxers, he staggered to his bedroom door with narrowed blue-violet eyes. Someone was going to have to die now, most probably Alfred. Why was he cursed with a noisy hyperactive twin brother?

THUMP

He whirled around. The noise was not, in fact, coming from his door. What the hell was it then? He rubbed at his eyes and lurched to his nightstand, realizing the absence of his glasses. No wonder everything was blurry. Placing them on his noise, he looked around and noticed his window, facing the front yard. It was covered in snow, which was odd because the part right above it was not. How could snow cake only the lower half of the window? That made no sense...

THUMP

The window rattled as snow hit it once more and Matthew flinched in surprise. Now he was quite puzzled, the hell was going on? His mind which had yet to wake up battle with the question furiously. He walked over to his window, opened it quickly and stuck his head out. Only to have snow thrown at his face. He let out a surprised yell and wiped at his cheeks. They reddened from the cold that bit at his naked skin. The wind blew at his face, stinging his eyes and carried the sound of obnoxious cackling. Only one person had such an irritable laugh.  
Matthew glared downward to see the culprit of his forced awakening who was laughing hysterically beneath him. His dark blue winter clothing made him stand out from the white backdrop of the yard.

"Gilbert! What the hell?" Matthew yelled down, less angry because it was the albino and not his insufferable brother. He could never stay angry at the albino even if he was really annoying. Still, he was curious as to why his boyfriend was here and why he seemed it appropriate to throw snowballs at his window. Did he not realize how tired Matthew was?

"You didn't enjoy your day off yesterday! Come down and I'll make today super awesome!" The other shouted, his voice loud enough to be heard clearly. Matthew sighed, rolling his eyes and shivered slightly. Man, it was cold.

"Also, you're looking good Matt!" The Prussian complimented, ending with an obnoxious wolf whistle. Matthew blushed, realizing he was practically naked in front of the other. Why hadn't he wrapped himself up in something?

"Shut up!" He shouted down as he started to close the window. Before he did, though, he quickly added, "I'll be down in a minute."

He stepped away from the window and toward his closet, pulling out the necessary clothing for this turn of events. Of course, it was then that his brother bursted into his room.

"Mattie, whats with all the yelling?" Alfred asked, fully dressed and confused. Alfred was only a morning person when it came to weekends. During those two days he was awake practically before the sun. But once Monday came along he could barely crawl out of bed in time to catch the bus. Such an odd child.

"Gilbert's here. He woke me up by throwing snowballs at my window." Matthew answered, pulling his shirt over his bare chest. It wasn't like he was self-conscious of being half naked with Alfred, they were brothers after all. In front of Gilbert, on the other hand, was really embarrassing.

"Ah, why don't we ambush him?" Alfred suggested with a mischievous grin. Matthew thought a moment about the request. On one hand, Alfred could get really into these sorts of games and might actually hurt his boyfriend. On the other, Gilbert had woken him up way too early.

"Yes that sounds like a wonderful idea." Matthew agreed as he hurried to finish dressing himself. ALfred's grin widened as he waited for his brother to finish. How he loved to mess with Gilbert, it was super entertaining.

* * *

Gilbert fell to the ground with a cry as he was pegged successively in the chest, face and crotch. He glared at his assailants who were laughing, Matthew giving him a mischievous look. Fuck that hurt, at least the one to his crotch hadn't been very hard but the one to his face burned his cheek.

"No fair" He snapped. Sitting back up and brushing at the snow on his coat. Good thing this was all waterproof or he'd be shivering from the melting projectiles. Why was Matt hurting him? He should be making out with him for saving him from the boringness of his house and gracing him with his awesomeness!

"Life's not fair." Alfred responded instinctively, grinning cruelly down at the albino. It was fun to mess with Gilbert, he had such a huge ego. Gilbert pouted and looked up at his boyfriend for some help. Matthew sighed and offered his hand to the other. Really, Gilbert had some sort of spell on him that made it impossible to stay mad at him. The pout disappeared as he grasped the hand and hauled himself off and wrapped a possessive arm around the others neck. The action didn't look intimate at all, plus Alfred was such an oblivious moron sometimes he probably wouldn't even notice.

"Fine. Snowball fight. Right now. Me and Matt against you Al." Gilbert announced, grin wide as he sized up the American who was sadly two inches taller than himself. Mostly due to the fact that Gilbert's awesomeness was just waiting for the right moment to grow another foot. Yeah.

"That's not fair! Two against one?" Alfred frowned.

"Life's not fair." Gilbert spat back grinning and Alfred glared at him. The albino wasn't allowed to use his own words against him! He was so not agreeing to this.

"But Al, you're so strong that it does make it fair." Matthew lied quickly, he didn't want them fighting. Alfred still didn't know about them dating and he couldn't tell him if the two were on bad terms. Alfred was way to protective and would probably kill the albino, so it would be better if they were on friendly terms when he did eventually tell him. Also, he wanted to be with Gil, alone, behind a fort. He smiled at the thought.

"True..." Alfred murmured in thought, a smile blossoming on his bright face, "Alright then. Lets do it. Five minutes to build your fort." He declared before hurrying away to the other side of the yard. He worked quickly, building a fort that wasn't very pretty but at least held up. Then, he focused on making some snowballs. Alfred's strategy lay more in the offensive than in the defensive anyway.

Gilbert could not build a fort for his life. The snow always crumbled down no matter how hard he tried. Luckily, his awesome boyfriend had mega skills when it came to snow. Matthew could make the best forts in record time. So, as Matthew focused on their defenses, Gilbert began packing snow into tight strong balls. Gilbert, unlike his awesome boyfriend, had quite the arm though not as strong as their football playing opponent.

The two different teams, Team Awesome Maple Leafs and Team Hero were preparing furiously for battle. Finally, Gilbert yelled out "Fire!" and the war commenced. Snowballs flew into the once calm sky and the yard was filled with laughter and screams.

It was in this sort of chaos that Ivan stumbled upon the trio.

* * *

Ivan had been at home bored. He had completed all his homework easily enough and now he had nothing to do. Worst, a certain American was consuming his mind making it hard to focus on anything else. He wanted to see him again, they had left in such a tense way after the incident with the nurse. He wanted to make sure he was ok, that his smile was back on his face.

So, leaving a note for Toris who had gone to work, he left and began his trek to the now familiar Bonnefoy home. It was much easier to walk there when the day was calm instead of a raging blizzard. So after while, he finally found the house and the war zone in front of it. It perplexed him greatly. At first the trio didn't notice him watching them but red eyes finally fell upon him.

"Look! Freak!" Gilbert announced, pointing at the Russian who blinked in surprise. Alfred turned around, staring at Ivan in equal surprise. It was with his back turned that Gilbert nailed him in the back of the head with a snowball. Alfred yelped rubbing at his head and glared at the albino.

"Cheater!" He accused as the other cackled obnoxiously. "Time out." Alfred continued as he made his way toward the taller teen. "Alright, Ivan thank God you're here. You're on my team and you need to help me crush that albino asshole, got it?" He instructed quickly, not even asking whether the Russian actually wanted to play. He was loosing and needed someone else helping him. Ivan nodded even though he had no idea what the other meant in the slightest. All he could tell was that Alfred needed help hurting Gilbert, and hurting the nuisance was something he'd wanted to do for a long time. He was all for it.

Alfred grinned and grabbed Ivan's wrist, dragging him into the war zone and pushing him behind their mound. Ivan looked up at him, perplexed, as Alfred crouched down beside him. "Ok, so you make snowballs and I'll fix our fort." Alfred ordered, grabbing some snow in his gloved hand and packing it onto their mound. His gloves were begining to soak with all the snow he had been handing, freezing his fingers. He paid it no mind, too focused on the game. Ivan tilted his head at the order and stared at him with confused violet eyes.

"Snowball?"

Alfred stopped and turned to the Russian, a look of disbelief painted on his face. "...You've never had a snowball fight?" The taller teen shook his hand and Alfred's eyes widened. "How is that even possible? Isn't Russia always covered in snow?"

Ivan huffed at the comment and peered at the mound of snow in front of them. "So, what is this game?"

"Well there's two teams ok. Each has a fort," Alfred pointed to their own before continuing. "And we make snowballs and throw them at our opponents. So far Gil and Mattie are winning." The American filled in quickly. "So, pack snow onto our fort like Mattie is doing over there. Make it nice and strong while I make some snowballs."

Ivan nodded, looking over to the others brother. Matthew was patting snow onto their well built (in comparison to Alfred's) fort. The Russian frowned, now knowing he would need a lot more snow to fix theirs. He set to work, gathering the fluffy white substance and pushing it against the mound. He wondered what the appeal was to a game playing with one of the things he hated most, snow.

A few minutes passed as each team worked in the eerie peace before battle. Alfred looked up to see their fort looking pretty awesome, Ivan's large hands worked faster than Matthew's smaller ones since they were able to gather more snow faster.

"Alright, once Gilbert shouts the game begins. Target Gilbert, he's sneaky." Alfred advised, showing Ivan the pile of snowballs he had just finished making. His hands were getting cold now, the melted water seeping toward his skin, same with his knees. He ignored it now, to focused on the game.

"Fire!" Came the war cry and Ivan immediately grabbed three of the snowballs in reach. Before Alfred or anybody could react, Ivan stood up and hurled all three at the albino. Two hit his chest and on his neck with enough force to send him crashing down with a cry. There was pause as everyone took in the scene, too shocked to react.

"Gil!" Matthew yelled out worriedly, rushing to his boyfriend's side as the other sat up. Gilbert growled, brushing the snow off his chest and glowered at the Russian smiling at him. How dare the freak make him look weak in front of Mattie? So not awesome.

"You'll pay for that!" he threatened as Matthew helped him up. The pale blond giggled at the hollow threat. He now understood the appeal of this activity and found he quite liked this game.

"That was epic!" Alfred praised, grinning like a mad man. Seeing Gilbert fall in mere seconds was awesome! "High five!" he called out, holding his hand up for his team mate.

Ivan tilted his head at it in confusion. "You hit it with your own." Alfred hurriedly explained impatiently. Ivan did so and Alfred grinned brighter. Alfred was actually happy with him, praising him too. Yes, he like this game very much.

"Alright, lets regroup." Alfred announced, taking the others hand in his own and leading him behind their fort. Ivan quite liked the feeling of the American's hand in his, it felt so pleasant and nice. Something bubbled in his chest and his smile grew. Once behind their fort, Alfred let him go but, fortunately, pressed close to him. His lips were mere millimeters from his pale ear as he whispered a strategy. Ivan shivered lightly at the feel of the others hot breath on his ear. Yes, he really liked this game.

Over on the other side of the yard, Gilbert was glowering. Matthew rolled his eyes as he made a few more snowballs. Really, the other could be such a child sometime.

"Gil, it's just a game." Matthew pointed out and Gilbert pouted at him. Didn't Matt understand the implications of this game? His pride was on the line!

Matthew sighed and decided the best course of action was to kiss the pout away. He leaned forward and pressed his smooth cold lips against the others, the albino quickly pressed back and went further. The younger twin parted his lips as he felt a Prussian tongue press at them, asking for entrance. Gilbert eagerly entered, making the kiss deeper and forcing Matthew to wrap his arms around the others neck for support.

"Hey! Are we starting yet!" Came an impatiently loud call from the other side of the field. Gilbert growled and pulled away, allowing Matthew to catch his breath. Without sticking his head out, for fear of being hit again, he yelled "Fire!".

The air was still, no one threw anything yet. Gilbert poked his head above their fort, using his snow white hair to camoflage him as he scanned the area. Ivan was ready to fire, right behind his own fort. Alfred must be crouching behind it unseen. Maybe if he could get a better look...

Alfred, in fact, was not behind the fort. Instead, he was in the middle of the field, on his belly, doing epic war maneuvers. Who cared if this was drenching his coat and the freezing water sinking into his skin, chilling him to the bone? It was a fucking awesome strategy.

As he sneaked to the other side, Ivan remained behind to cover him. Piercing violet eyes watched the other fort, ready to fire at anything that dared come near Alfred. Gilbert's head poked further out of the fort and Ivan threw his snowball at him. It hit his head, making him curse and duck back down. Ivan giggled again, this was so much fu-

Snow hit his face and he made a surprised noise, taking a step back. He wiped the substance from his face and looked for the culprit. His dark eyes found Matthew's own narrowed ones. He hadn't even seen the boy get up. Well, no matter. Ivan hurled a ball at him quickly, the younger twin's eyes widening at the incoming sphere.

Matthew squeaked (in a manly way) as he was pushed to the ground by his team mate, the ball sailing away. Gilbert grinned at him and gave him a thumbs up. Matthew smiled at him, a silent thanks, before quickly crawling behind their fort. The two sat close to each other, wondering what exactly to do.

"Watch out for your bro. No idea where he is." Gilbert hissed, knowing that the loud American should have charged out by now. Alfred wasn't known for his patience.

"Because I'm a ninja." Alfred declared, appearing right above them with a devilish grin. He struck the two quickly, nailing them right in the head at such a close proximity, making them yell out in surprise. He laughed before quickly scurrying back to the safety of his fort. Ivan smiled at him and offered his hand in a high five (apparently an American custom from what he could gather) and Alfred quickly slapped it.

"Fuck yeah! Team Hero and Commie are kicking ass!" He taunted with a cocky grin.

Gilbert growled in annoyance and looked over at Matthew who was frowning, brushing white flecks from his blond hair. "Come on Matt, we need a plan."

Matthew rubbed his lips together in thought, eyes focused on the snow before they lit up with an idea. A brilliant idea, in fact. He grinned and winked over at the confused albino, "I know." he said vaguely before standing up. He yelled out, asking for a time out for a bathroom break and ran into the house, almost forgetting to take off his snow caked boots.

He went through the house hurriedly, searching the rooms until, finally, he found what he was looking for. Arthur sat at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper with a cup of tea. Francis must still be asleep. Good, he needed his rest. Matthew advanced toward his father and called out, alerting the other of his presence. For some reason Arthur had trouble noticing him when he was doing things, like reading or sewing.

"Why hello Matthew." Arthur greeted, putting down his paper to look at his son. "I see your playing outside." he commented, having noticed the trio throwing snowballs at each other from his window.

"Dad, I need your help." Matthew stated, cutting to the chase and Arthur nodded, listening intently as the other spoke of the favor he needed done. Arthur couldn't help but smile mischievously.

A few minutes later, Matthew ran back outside and rejoined Gilbert behind their fort. He ignored Alfred's "Finally!" as he tried to stop the evil smirk from appearing on his otherwise innocent face. Gilbert yelled out "Fire!" and a volley of snowballs were exchanged in the air.

Amongst this chaos a strong call of "Alfred!" made said teen freeze along with his team mate. Blue eyes looked up toward the source of the sound, seeing his father leaning out of a second floor window. Alfred continued looking up, perplexed as his father turned over a blanket he was holding out. Sapphire eyes widened in horror as he saw the pile of snow briefly before it fell on him and Ivan. He cried out in surprise and before he could react the other team was upon them. Throwing snowballs at the disoriented pair before retreating back, laughter ringing out through the air.

Alfred spit out snow and glared at the retreating pair. Fuck, that was so not fair! "Cheaters!" He yelled out, ignoring his father's own laughter as he closed the window. God damn it! Now the snow was in his clothes and it was so fucking cold. Fuck! He shivered as he brushed the snow off him as best he could, his teeth chattering noisily.

Ivan wasn't very perturbed by the snow. He had felt much worse cold and his clothes were made for such weather. Still, he didn't think it was healthy for someone to shake as much as Alfred was. He didn't want the other to a catch a cold.

"Alfred, are you cold?" He questioned and the other glared at him.

"Of course, I'm fucking cold. Its like below 90 degrees and I have snow in my fucking pants thanks to them." He snapped bitterly, alright he was done with his game. All he wanted was to sit by the fire with some hot chocolate. That was enough snow for the season.

Ivan blinked, the other was that cold? Well, best to fix the problem.

Alfred stiffened as strong, Russian arms encircled him and held him close. His cold face was pressed against the others clothed chest, his arms sandwiched between them. The hell? His face started to heat up, just what was Ivan doing? Was he hugging him?

"What the hell are you doing?" He yelled out pushing at the chest in front of him.

"Trying to make you warmer." Ivan answered easily, holding him tighter. Alfred thrashed in the grip, he didn't need the other to warm him! He needed hot cocoa. That was it. He glared up at Ivan, not liking that evil spark in the others eyes. "Oh look, your lips are turning blue." Ivan pointed out nonchalantly, though his cruel smirk spoke of not-so-innocent things running through his mind.

Alfred's eyes narrowed, "So? Mmmph!" Blue eyes shot open as he felt the others lips against his own in a soft, hesitant kiss. What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? Alfred could feel his heart ramming against his chest as his brain momentarily shut down and all he could think was, What the FUCK? When he felt something press against his lips he gasped, allowing Ivan's tongue to thoroughly invade his mouth. Oh, hell no!

Alfred's body came back under his control as he pushed and thrashed violently, freeing himself. He took a few steps back, staring at Ivan in shock as his other hand wiped at his mouth furiously. "What the fuck?" He finally voiced out, his mind still reeling. Had Ivan, yes _IVAN _actually kissed him?

"Warming your lips. It's better now, da?" Ivan explained, tilting his head oh so innocently. He quite like kissing Alfred, he was so very warm and it made his heart speed up. He wanted to kiss him again and again and again.

"Fuck no you commie freak!" Alfred denied hurriedly, turning away to run into the house. Why the hell would he kiss him? Was it some sort of Russian custom? God, why hadn't he pushed him away sooner... Had he...liked it?

No. God no. How could he like a kiss from _Ivan_. The thought was nauseating, or at least should be. Why wasn't it nauseating! The fuck was wrong with him?

Ivan blinked, slightly confused at the reaction before following the blond into the home.

* * *

Behind their own fort, oblivious to Alfred's troubles, Matthew and Gilbert were enjoying a victory kiss. Well, it was more of a hot make out session in the snow. Matthew was pressed into their fort, arms wrapped tight around the paler teen's neck. His hands gripped almost white strands as he battled with Gilbert's tongue.

The albino pressed against him, deepening the kiss almost violently. There chests were pushed against each other and the Prussian had his hands at Matthews hips, gripping them for support. Gilbert pulled away painting harshly, their hot breaths fogging in the cold air. Matthews eyes screwed shut as the albino began trailing kisses down his neck, nipping occasionally. Unconsciously, he tilted his head, giving the other room to continue.

Gilbert grinned as he sucked at his boyfriend's neck and ventured lower to where his neck joined his shoulder. He nipped it sharply, enjoying the hiss Matthew made before lapping at it almost apologetically. He was adamant on having the mark stay for a few days, it was low enough to be covered by a shirt.

As Gilbert pushed him further into the fort Matthew began to realize exactly where they were. His coat rode up slightly and he hissed again as cold snow touched the burning skin on his back. He squirmed in his boyfriend's clutches, trying to push him away.

"G-gil stop!" He ordered and finally the other acquiesced, pulling away with an annoyed frown.

"Why?" He asked impatiently, licking at his lips at how disheveled the blond looked. He especially liked the red mark blossoming at the others neck. It was like awesomeness and sexiness combined. Awesexiness, perhaps? He'd have to work on that...

"Because we're outside, in my front yard. Papa's window is right above us! Anyone could see and its too cold." Matthew enumerated, sitting up and watching the other sigh dramatically.

"Fine." Gilbert pouted, standing up and helping the other do the same. "But we continue this in your room. K?"

"Of course."

"Awesome."

* * *

Alfred stormed into the house, emotions confused, mind whirling and face hot from embarrassment. Plus, he was still freezing his balls off. He kicked his boots off and threw his gloves to the floor. His fingers were cramped and bright red as he unzipped his coat, pulling it off and hanging it haphazardly. The snow pants came off next which he left on the floor.

His lips were in a tight frown as he stomped into the kitchen to get his damn hot chocolate. To his surprise, one already sat at the table, wisps of hot smoke escaping into the air from its dark chocolaty brown contents.

"Oh Alfred, don't be too mad at me. You're brother asked for my help so nicely." Arthur spoke from the counter, smiling apologetically. "I knew you'd want some after that, enjoy. It's the only thing I'm good at making correct?" He mocked himself lightly, hoping his son would forgive him for throwing snow on him.

Alfred couldn't help the small smile that slipped onto his face. See, this was the Dad he liked. The one that made him hot chocolate because he knew he'd want one. "Thanks Dad." He murmured, sitting down by his beverage.

"Oh, Ivan would you like one too?" Alfred snapped his head up to see curious violet eyes. Shit, Ivan had followed him. Why? Why was he tormented constantly by the others presence? He had fucking kissed him! He should of left! Been hit by a snowmobile. He should just not be here, in his house after he had kissed him! It was too awkward.

"Da." Ivan answered, sitting down beside the American with a smile. Alfred was acting so odd, he needed him to calm down so he could kiss him again.

"Ivan, why are you here?" Alfred hissed out quietly so as not to alert his father. He surely didn't want him to know about it. Ivan blinked.

"I came to your home, you invited me to play that game with you. Then you left me alone outside so I followed you in." Ivan recounted easily and Alfred's eye twitched, irritated. That's not what he meant.

"You kissed me." he snapped in a hushed tone.

"Yes, you were cold. You are still cold. Drink your warm beverage, it will help. Unless, you want me to hold you again?" Ivan asked casually, mischievous smirk adorning his handsome features. Alfred glowered, ignoring how his face flamed with color. It was probably the cocoa. Wait...had he just thought of Ivan's face as boasting 'handsome features'? The fuck was he thinking? Whatever, best tactic was just to ignore his presence all together.

He turned to his mug and drank it, enjoying how the warmth seeped through his very core. Dad had even remembered to pull out the marshmallows! He quickly grabbed one, dipping it into his cup and chewing it happily. Now if only the Freak would just leave him alone.

Ivan watched the other intently, his gaze flickering only when a mug was set before him. He took a sip finding it much to hot for his tastes. He let it cool down, returning his violet gaze to the American.

"Stop staring at me." Alfred snapped, eyes focused on his mug and not on the Freak. Why had he been acting so nice to him lately? He was such a weirdo, creepy communistic-

"You are so very cruel to me." Ivan sighed sadly, his eyes staring past the other now. "If you wish me to leave so badly then I shall go."

Alfred frowned, was he acting like an asshole? Ivan sure made it seem like he was. But the other had kissed him! How else was he suppose to act?

"You don't have to go." Alfred murmured, resting his chin on his hand tiredly. "Just...Stop being so creepy ok?"

Ivan wasn't sure what he meant but nodded anyway. He just wanted to get back on Alfred's good side. Being on Alfred's good side meant getting into his bed faster.

Alfred sighed inwardly, what had he gotten himself into? A few weeks ago he wouldn't have hesitated in kicking the other out. Probably punching him a few good times while he did so. But now...Now he didn't know. Ivan had fucking kissed him and instead of punching him he had retreated away and done nothing. Why?

Ivan hoped that their relationship was progressing further. Inside, he was getting quite excited to become Alfred's lover, his heart beating faster at the thought. He just wished Alfred would accept faster. At least everything seem to be going smoothly again.

At least, he thought it was.

Except, for the next week, Alfred avoided him like the plague. He wouldn't look him in the eye, just quickly dart away into the halls. In U.S. history, he fidgeted in his seat, not even looking at him once.

Ivan didn't understand the sudden change but he was adamant on finding out.

* * *

Dun Dun Dun XD  
So whats wrong with Alfred? You'll find out in the next update and I'm pretty sure you'll enjoy it. *snickers*  
Thanks for all the nice reviews, I feel so loved.  
I'm feeling better, though still crappy... yay~ -.-

In other news, congratulations to **Crimson Sea under the Red Moon** for being my 300th reviewer! Please answer my pm and make your request because you have just won yourself a one-shot! *confetti*

Anways, I loves you all and thanks for reading this slowly progressing story... but look a kiss! :3

Crimson Sea under the Red Moon

Crimson Sea under the Red Moon


	21. Chapter 20

It was always the same. They were always outside, in the snow. It was always freezing but it didn't matter. His shirt would be ripped off, his pants pulled down and his neck ravaged. The other remained teasingly clothed. Always the same.

He was pressed into the side of his home, the coldness seeping into his bare back and stinging his skin. He hissed out in pain, the sound quickly swallowed by rough lips. He kissed back eagerly, letting the other thoroughly invade his mouth. His breath was robbed and he clung to the others coat desperately. Always the same.

The other finally pulled away, cold smirk adorning his features as he licked his lips hungrily. The blond looked at him dizzily, blue eyes half lidded as his swollen lips gulped down the frigid air. It burned his lungs but he wanted more, he wanted so much more.

Cold, gloved hands danced about his naked torso, eliciting shivers throughout his body. They teased his sensitive, burning skin. The merciless fingers stopped their steady descent when they reached his pants. He held his breath, watching through watery blue eyes as the other yanked the article of clothing down roughly.

He bit his lip as his aching member was released into the freezing air. It stood erect in front of scrutinizing violet eyes. Blue ones looked down as he heard the soft thud of knees hitting the snowy ground. The other smirked up at him, running his gloved hands excruciatingly slowly over his member, leaving him gasping for more.

His blurry eyes strained to remain open as the other leaned forward, licking at the tip with slow, broad strokes. His knees felt weak and he used the wall behind him for some sort of support. His hands fisted and unfisted by his sides, unsure on where they should be. His teeth clenched, a desperate attempt to hold in the embarrassing noises that tried to claw their way out. It was futile though, they were always released at some point.

The other watched him, violet eyes observing and recording all of his actions and making him blush even further in humiliation. He cried out, releasing a garbled noise of pleasure as his head was finally taken in. It was all going to slowly, fucking commie. Always the tease.

The warm cavern of the other's mouth was excruciatingly tight and when the teasing tongue swept across his slit, licking at the beads of precum he couldn't help but moan loudly. He had tried to keep his teeth clenched, but that had failed against the others touches. He always had a talent in making him do what he wanted.

Bare hands shot up to grip the pale blond hair, urging him to take in more of him, begging him. The other refused to budge, his strong gloved hands firmly holding his hips, preventing him from thrusting into that hot mouth. The blond whined pathetically, desperately as he realized that he wasn't in charge here.

The other took more of him in slowly, gliding his tongue on the underside of his shaft teasingly. His violet eyes always watched his face that contorted in pleasure as he tried to hide it in vain. And when their eyes met, piercing, controlling violet against blurry, watery, half lidded blue, he could never hold the other's powerful gaze.

He gasped as the other took him in further, swallowing around him, making the small warm cavern of his mouth that much tighter. It felt so good, so very good. His hands tugged at the pale blond locks, pleading him to take him in faster, deeper. Of course, the other didn't listen, did he ever?

The other began to bob his head up and down, taking more in every time. Still, the pace was so slow, and he wasn't sure how much more he could take. He knew he was close, so very close. His hands clenched tighter, his hips pleading to be able to thrust. His mouth gasping for breath as he begged with his noises of pleasure. His eyes were screwed shut until he felt the other's gloved hands squeeze his hips.

They opened minimally, heavy eyelids trying to close them again, and looked down. Violet eyes stared at him with such a strong, piercing gaze that he couldn't do anything but follow their silent command. With a loud cry of his cursed name he came, hard, leaving him gasping for air.

"IVAN!"

* * *

Alfred sat up, breathing heavily and feeling an uncomfortable stickiness in his boxers. He groaned, his hands going through his sweaty blond locks as his chest continued to heave. This was the fourth time this week! What the hell!

Ever since that kiss, that damn fucking surprise kiss, he had received these nightly dreams. Sure, he'd had wet dreams before. Usually, though, they had been about crushes or hot people, NOT creepy communistic classmates. Ivan must of drugged him with that kiss, it was the only logical explanation.

Well, that and actually developing feelings for the big Russian but that was quickly ruled out as being impossible.

He pulled at his hair and groaned, this needed to fucking stop. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand, angry blurry red letters glared back at him. He grasped at his glasses, slipping them on and then looked at the damn clock.

4:19 am

Well, fuck. He still had two hours to sleep but because of the fucking commie he was going to have to get up. He threw the covers off of him, stepping out of bed with a grimace as his boxers clung to him awkwardly. The teen shuffled to his and his twin's shared bathroom, closing the door behind him and locking it.

He peeled off his boxers, his only sleep wear. (Dad had thrown a fit and insisted he wear nice, proper flannel pajamas like himself. Alfred had refused but agreed to stop sleeping in the nude.) He turned the knob for the shower, placed his glasses on the counter and stepped into the cold spray.

It woke him immediately, blue eyes open and alert as he washed himself quickly. Hot showers were so much nicer but he couldn't afford the risk at the moment. He had been having these dreams way too frequently and he was sick of it. He glared at the white tiles in front of him, as if they were his tormentors. No, it wasn't their fault, it was the fucking commie who had busted into his nice life and ruined everything.

Damn Ivan and his sexiness.

Yeah, he said it. The damn Russia was a little sexy, why else would he be having these dreams? It was probably those unique violet eyes that scrutinized your every move. Alfred felt a shiver run down his spine and he mentally cursed himself. He didn't need the problem to resurface now!

Why was he having all these fucking wet dreams about him? He'd had wet dreams of classmates before, but they were a one time thing and he blamed his teenage hormones for them. But this was to weird.

He'd had the same fucking wet dream for the past four nights in a row and he was sick of it.

This was not normal, not at all.

And it all started with that fucking kiss in the snow.

He had never even imagined Ivan in a sexual way before that kiss but now it couldn't leave his mind. It was disturbing, disgusting and he hated it. He wanted the thoughts to go away. Why couldn't things go back to normal? Why was he being tortured with the presence of his Russian classmate?

Alfred shut the water off, taking his towel and drying himself haphazardly. He walked back into his room to get to his closet. He pulled out a fresh pair of boxers and the rest of his clothes for school. Putting them on he sat on his bed and looked over at his clock.

4:53 am

Well, fuck.

* * *

Ivan didn't quite understand Alfred's recent distant behavior towards him. It wasn't like before when he had received a bad grade. Back then he had been sad, obviously hurt and acted like that with everyone.

But now, he was only cold toward him and he didn't like it.

Ivan would see the other, laughing and smiling with his friends. Talking excitedly with his brother or having a moronic argument with the obnoxious albino. Then he would appear and Alfred would get uncharacteristically quiet, would flounder for some bad excuse and escape quickly.

The Russian had already interrogated Matthew but the teen knew nothing. He, too, was dumbfounded by his brother's behavior but assured him that he would get over it soon. Ivan, still, was intent on discovering what exactly was the problem. Clearly he had done something wrong and he needed to know what in order to prevent it from happening again.

Unfortunately, Alfred seemed to be incredibly talented at weaseling away from direct confrontation. Ivan was growing more impatient by the second and he was about ready to just kidnap the other during one of his classes.

Fortunately, in Chemistry, they were having another lab and Ivan was quick to select Alfred as his partner. There was no way Alfred was getting away from him now. He would find out what the problem was and eradicate it, then Alfred would succumb to his desires and everything would be wonderful.

Alfred groaned as he was dragged to one of the lab tables by his project partner. He had been doing such great job at avoiding him too! He couldn't even look the other in the eye now, only imagining those violet eyes piercing him as he sucked him off-

Shit, stop thinking about that! It wouldn't do him any good to get hard in Chem in front of his tormentor. Fuck his teenage hormones.

"Alfred-"

"Ivan, we need to get to work. Focus." Alfred quickly interrupted, practically burying his head in his lab paper. If he started blushing he was going to kill himself. Stop thinking of those lips on his skin, of those hands on his hips. Fuck.

"No. Alfred you will stop avoiding me and-"

"Avoiding you?" Alfred denied with a forced chuckled, his blue eyes darting about the room. "What gave ya that idea? You sure are weird ya big commie. Now we need to work!"

"Alfred!" Ivan shouted, raising his voice for the first time in a long time. The bustling room fell silent as all the student's eyes fell upon them. Alfred could feel heat rising to his face by the utter embarrassment of this entire scene. The world was absolutely against him, no doubt about it. What did the Hero ever do to deserve all this? Thankfully, Ivan's intimidating glare made everyone turn away and get back to their own business.

"Alfred." he repeated at a lower volume, his violet eyes looking intently at the reddening face before him. The blue eyes darted around, never meeting his gaze. "Stop it. What did I do wrong?" He was at the end of his string, or however the saying went. He _needed _to know what he had done to deserve this treatment.

Alfred stiffened slightly. The way the other said it struck something within him. He said it in his normal authoritative voice, but there was a slight pleading undertone. As if he needed to know why he was being so thoroughly ignored. Alfred suddenly felt like an asshole.

He sighed, eyes looking down at his feet, "You didn't do anything wrong." he assured. Sure, he could have blamed him because he kissed him and all that shit but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Ivan was probably clueless to this, didn't he say he kissed him in order to keep him warm? Who knew, maybe that was a Russian custom.

Ivan's eyes narrowed and looked him over, searching for the truth. "Then why are you mad at me?"

"I'm not mad." Alfred answered, turning away and picking up their Chem packet. "I just... I just need to figure some stuff out k? My minds a mess right now and I just need some space." He continued truthfully, tiredly. He hadn't had a good night sleep in a long time and it was taking its toll on his frazzled brain. He needed a break from all these issues, better yet he needed someone to talk to. Alfred hated keeping things inside, he preferred letting them all out to someone he trusted.

"Is there a way I could assist you?" Ivan asked innocently, looking at the other intently. Alfred swallowed thickly, imagining all the ways Ivan could _assist_ him. Last night's dream attacked his mind and it took all his will power not to jump the fucking Russian.

"No." He gritted out quickly, turning away and clenching his packet, making it wrinkle. "I'll be fine. Lets just get this over with."

Ivan nodded but frowned. Alfred was hiding something from it and that idea made him quite sad for some reason. He wanted to know what it was that the other was so intent in keeping from him. Still, he wasn't exactly sure how to find out, especially since Matthew didn't know either.

* * *

"Alfred? Is something wrong, mon petit?" Francis asked, peering at his son who was setting the table for dinner. Normally, Matthew would be helping him but his little ladies' man (gentlemen's man?) was out with Gilbert, eating dinner at his home.

Francis had smirked knowingly, did Matthew truly think he could hide something like that from him? Still, he would wait until Matthew was comfortable in telling him himself. And he silently promised not to tell the more oblivious members of the family until Matthew was ready to do it himself. He didn't quite understand why Matthew didn't want to tell them at all. Was he just being his shy self?

He couldn't worry about that now, Alfred seemed to be upset over something. He was hiding something...

Alfred looked up at his French father's voice, tilting his head in confusion. "No, nothing's wrong. I'm just tired. I need this week to be over already!" He whined like usual as he put down the third plate, moving on toward the silverware. Technically he wasn't lying.

Francis nodded absently, flicking his gaze back to the oven. Tired Alfred surely was, was he getting enough sleep at night? What could be keeping him up at night? Unless...oh hon hon hon...

The oven beeped and he limped over, opening it carefully. Even if his leg was broken he would never let Arthur cook for them. That would be suicide. So, he made sure to cook, even if Arthur watched him like a hawk to make sure he didn't hurt himself. Where was that man, anyway? Usually he was here nagging him...

"Alfred, you do know you can tell me and your father anything, right?" Francis said, his blue eyes meeting his son's. He recorded how the other quickly shifted his gaze to the table. Definitely hiding something and now he was pretty sure his assumptions were correct.

"Yeah, yeah I know." Alfred brushed off with a reassuring smile. He turned his back toward his father as he started putting down the silverware.

Francis frowned, Alfred wasn't biting. Then again, the boy had inherited his English father's obliviousness in the realm of amour. Perhaps being blunt was the best course of action.

"Have you been masturbating, Alfred?"

Alfred almost dropped all of the knives and forks as he whirled around. "What!" he squawked, shocked that his _father_ had asked him such a thing. Didn't he understand privacy? Well this was Papa...But still!

"It's perfectly normal for a boy your age to be exploring his body." Francis continued matter of factly, undaunted by the others reaction.

"Please stop talking." Alfred hissed, red adorning his features. He thought he was finished with the sex talks! Why did his Papa have to be so mortifying. He was already trying to deal with these problems, he didn't need a sexual lecture from his perverted father!

Francis ignored his pleas, "Alfred, do not be so embarrassed. This is something we should be able to talk about openly. Anyway, you are losing sleep because of this aren't you? Are you getting erect for no reason? Or perhaps you need some tips to make it easier?" He was only trying tohelp.

"Oh my god, we are not having this talk." Alfred insisted, backing away from the kitchen. "Stop talking, just stop talking." He was going to kill himself if this continued, that or lock himself in his room for the rest of forever.

"Alfred, I'm only trying to help you."

"Help him with what?" Arthur asked, confused as he stepped into the kitchen. What were those two going on about now? Alfred's eyes widened and he quickly tried to stop his father from describing their current conversation.

"Alfred's masturbation seems to be cutting into his sleep, so, I was offering advice." And the shit has hit the fan.

Alfred groaned and held his face in his hands in utter defeat. Why? Why was his life so hard? Why was Papa so absolutely mortifying?

"What the hell are you pushing into his head frog?" Arthur yelled, eyes wide as he stormed over to his husband. His little baby Alfred would never just have a conversation like that. Francis was obviously corrupting him. How dare he!

"Nothing, cher. I just want Alfred to sleep better." Francis defended hurriedly, sending a worried glance toward his son who was still shielding his red face. Now Arthur would ruin his chance of getting to the bottom of this. And apparently _he _was the bad parent among them.

"Alfred isn't like you! He doesn't need to-to- you know! Every night in order to survive!" Arthur snapped, looking toward his son for a nod or something. To his surprised Alfred said nothing.

"Ah ha! So I was right!" Francis grinned triumphantly while Arthur narrowed his eyes angrily.

"Alfred."

No response.

"Alfred." Louder, more forceful.

"I don't want to talk about it." He replied hurriedly. Having this conversation with Papa was one thing, but having it with his strict 'gentlemanly' father? That was way too awkward.

"Are you...And it's interfering with your sleep?" The Brit asked completely shocked. Was this really his little baby Alfred, the one who begged for nightly stories and looked up to him with his bright blue eyes?

"No! Not exactly... I mean... I"

"So, you'd rather...play around instead of actually focusing on you school work?"

"No! Its not like that.! Just, just leave me alone." He didn't know what else to say.

"If this is what is hurting you scholarly performance than it needs to stop, Alfred."

"You don't understand! I just... Fuck..." Alfred, covered his mouth in surprise. How could he let that slip in his floundering for excuses?

"Excuse me?"

"I didn't mean-"

"Alfred, what has gotten into you?" Arthur snapped incredulously. Was this the gentleman he was attempting to raise, a boy who uses his body as if it were an amusement park instead of studying and who had the mouth of a sailor?

"I can't do this right now." Alfred spat back, feeling anger replace his embarrassment. What right did Dad have to order him around, and why did everything come back to his grades? Was that all Dad cared about? Well, fuck him, he was sick of it. Sick of all of this.

"Alfred, where are you going? Dinner is ready!" Francis called as he watched his son storm up the stares quickly. He had been so close to cracking the case!

"I'm not hungry!" He called back down before slamming his door shut, locking it and falling onto his bed. He hid his bright red face in his pillow, wishing to God that all this would fucking stop. He couldn't take this anymore.

Papa was embarrassing, Dad was angry and couldn't understand anything. Who was there actually left for him to talk to? Mattie. But he was with Gil. Why the hell were they spending so much time together anyway? Whatever, maybe he could talk to him when he got back.

And of course, like all his other problems, it all came back to the damn commie. Why couldn't Ivan ever stop bothering him? Now he had even infiltrated his dreams! The nerve...

* * *

Matthew pulled away from the heated kiss, breathing shallowly. The albino continued anyway, pressing kisses down his neck, sucking and biting. The twin squirmed from the touches, arms wrapped around his boyfriend's neck to pull him closer.

"Gil..." He groaned, hissing at a hard bite near his collar bone. Gilbert smirked, loving the sound of his name on the others kissable lips. He quickly set to work on unbuttoning the blond's shirt in order to get to his yet-to-be-marred-chest.

"I have to go soon..." Matthew reminded, knowing he was only suppose to stay for dinner and that dinner had ended a good twenty minutes ago. Gilbert growled, coming back up to kiss those lips so they couldn't spout out more excuses.

"No you don't."

"Yes, I do." Matthew insisted between kisses as he was pressed down into the mattress. The other returned to unbuttoning his shirt, splaying it out to reveal his smooth chest.

"Call them. Tell them you're staying the night." Gilbert pressed, running his hands along the others side, relishing how the other shivered at his touches. Gott, Matt was sexy.

"I can't do that." Matthew hissed, arching slightly as those calloused fingers ghosted over his nipples. Gilbert's fingers continued downward, playing with the others jeans and enjoying how he groaned and bucked slightly.

"Sure you can." Gilbert urged, unzipping him and yanking his pants down. Matthew glared down at him, though the effect was lost as he gasped when Prussian fingers felt at his hardening member. "Just call you're brother and have him tell your parents. I'm sure he owes you one."

Matthew's eyes screwed close as those sinfully good fingers rubbed him through the fabric. He bit his lip and thought as hard as he could in such a situation. For some reason he had some sort of pain in his chest, something telling him he should be home. On the other hand, Gilbert felt so good right now.

"Give me my phone." Matthew gritted out in defeat and he could feel Gilbert's happiness in waves. He felt the other fish around his jean pocket before handing him his cellphone, all the while never stopping his fingers.

With a shaky hand the younger twin opened his cellphone and pressed his speed dial, waiting as it rung. He let out a pleasured gasp as Gilbert pulled his boxers down and finally touched his length.

"You're going to stop, aren't yo-Hey Alfred!" Matthew quickly changed his tone, glaring down at Gilbert who quickened his ministrations. His fingers wrapped around the others shaft, pumping him fully and slowly. Matthew bit at his lip and swore he was going to kill the other.

"Hey Mattie! Wow, you know just when to call don't you?" Alfred said excitedly. Things were looking up, Mattie would come home and he could sort all his problems out.

"Ngh, hmmm... Y-yeah look Al." Matthew started shakily, Gilbert's hand quickening its pace.

"Are you ok? You're all out of breath... Anyway, I need you to come home. I need to talk to you about something..."

"Eh?...Uh... S-sorry didn't hear you."Matthew covered the speaker, pulling the phone away to moan as Gilbert ran his tongue absently over the head. Didn't he realize he was trying to talk to his brother!

Alfred frowned, what the hell was up with his bro? "Mattie?"

"I c-can't come home k? Feliciano wan-wants me to stay over for the n-night. Can you t-tell Dad?" Matthew continued with difficulty. He could tell Gilbert was enjoying himself way too much.

"Huh? But-"

"Thanks, ngn" And he hung up, pushing the phone away and grasping at white locks. He pulled his red eyed tormentor up for a heated kiss. "What is wrong with you!" He snapped and only received a mischievous grin.

Matthew flipped them over and the albino let out a laugh as the other disrobed him as quickly as possible. "You gonna punish me, Matt?" He teased, flashing his grin up at the usually shy teen. Matthew raised a brow and leaned down. Gilbert moved up for what he assumed to be a kiss when he was held down. The others lips were almost touching his own but refused to give him what he wanted.

"Je crois que oui."_ (I think so) _He whispered before sitting back up. Gilbert shivered and smirked, quite excited for whatever was to come.

* * *

Alfred glared at his phone before throwing it at one of his pillows. Well, fuck. Everyone seemed to be against him today. Not even his brother cared. Fucking great.

He growled into his pillow, the one he was hugging to his chest, and wondered what to do. He definitely wasn't going down to his parents, that would be mortifying. Mattie wasn't coming home. Kiku was out with that guy who sleeps all the time. He was alone.

Alfred hated being alone.

He could call Ivan... No. He was the root of all his problems, he definitely wasn't going to just call him. Fuck.

At least it was almost the weekend and he could relax a little. He would talk with his twin tomorrow. Yeah, everything would work its way out soon.

With the weekend would come inner peace. Or at least, that's what Alfred hoped.

* * *

I feel dirty...  
That was SO hard to write. I need to practice more though...  
I hope it wasn't too bad though I'm pretty sure it was crappy. Sigh...  
Anywho, I hope you guys like this crappy limey scented chapter~  
Next chapter Alfred and Matthew have some intense bro-talk. Look forward to that.

Holy shit! 360+ reviews. That's so awesome! Makes me all warm and bubbly inside.  
You guys are the best and I love each and everyone of you.  
Review=love people. Always remember that :D  
See ya next Sunday!


	22. Chapter 21

Alfred wasn't going to lie, he was quite the procrastinator. If he received a project due in three weeks it was a certainty he'd be up the night before doing all of it. He put things off dangerously late in an attempt to get out of it. The nasty habit didn't reside solely in school though, it seeped into every other aspect of his life. Including speaking with his brother.

Matthew returned home and he didn't speak to him. They went about their daily routines and he didn't speak to him. They watched TV, they played video games, they ate dinner and he still didn't speak to him. Matthew said goodnight and Alfred gave him a noncommittal wave, heard the door close and still didn't speak to him.

Fuck.

Is exactly what he screamed into his pillow when he was in bed. Why did he always do this to himself? He kept putting it off and putting it off until it was too late. Now he'd have to wait until morning. He'd have another wet dream and be tormented by his hormones just because he couldn't work up the courage to talk to his twin. The problem was it was such an awkward thing to talk about, but he needed to get it off his chest. How does one even start such a conversation?

_Hey bro, guess what? You know that creepy Russian guy? Yeah, well, I dream of him in naughty ways._

_ Bro, pass me the Coke. Oh, and by the way, I'm having these wet dreams about Ivan and I need your help making them stop._

_ Ivan makes me hard in my sleep, FIX IT!_

Alfred groaned, smashing his head into his pillow and screaming into it again. Why was this so hard? That's what she said... Damn it. Focus, Alfred. Ivan would probably say something like that, he seemed pretty innocent. Hehe... Alfred chuckled lightly before realizing what he was thinking. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, tugging at his hair for good measure.

Damn it. He just needed to vent. He didn't even need to talk about the dreams. His emotions were a mess and his brain was all frazzled. Mattie was always so calm and level headed, hopefully he could help. They were twins, they should be able to talk about things like this. Its not like Matthew would separate their sibling bond...Right?

Oh shit, could he do that? Matthew was always saying how he was the worst brother ever, usually when he messed something up and got them both in trouble. What if he actually left? That would really suck. Damn it. Now there was all this pressure on him. He just wanted to calmly talk with his brother about his nightly emissions about the Freak. He shivered, what a creepy way to say that.

"Mmm...God yes!"

Alfred stiffened before mounting dread filled him to the brim. No, no please no. Not now. Not now. Sure it was Saturday evening and that usual meant this would happen but please God don't let it happen. He couldn't deal with this now. It was only—he quickly glanced at his clock—midnightish. His father had a broken leg for God's sake! Surely the universe didn't hate him this much?

"F-Francis! Right there!"

Well, fuck. His parents were doing the dirty and his paper thin walls were failing to shield his innocence. He waited, counting to three in his head before a rhythmic thump was heard through the walls. Well, there goes any chance of sleep for the night. He put his hands over his ears but, sadly, his English father had quite the voice. Good for yelling when angry and when doing _that._

Alfred groaned and had half the mind to just go over there and yell through the door for them to stop. Though he knew, from previous experience, Papa would continue while eloquently explaining why they should keep going. It was absolutely embarrassing.

So, instead, he stumbled out of his bed and traversed the hall to his brother's bedroom. It seemed that the only thing that could push him to finally talk with his brother was having it as an excuse to get out of the house. He opened the door finding his brother sound asleep in his bed. Alfred snickered lightly to himself as he saw Kumajirou peeking out from the covers. It amused him that Matthew still slept with the bear.

"Mattie?" He hissed out, nudging at the others shoulder. His brother groaned and turned over, he never really was a light sleeper. Alfred rolled his eyes and nudged more forcefully. How could Matthew even sleep with the racket their parent's were making?

"H-Harder!" As if on cue. Alfred grimaced in distaste and focused on waking his twin.

"Mattie!" He snapped, pushing his brother roughly and finally succeeding in waking him up. Violet blue eyes flew open as he sat up, dazed and confused. His hand felt around his night table until it closed around his glasses. He placed them on his nose quickly before looking up at his twin.

"What? What is it? Is the house on fire? Did someone break in?" He asked hurriedly, eyes worried and scared as they darted about the room.

"No." Alfred quickly assured and his brother's brows furrowed.

"What then?"

"Lets go play catch."

Matthew stared at him with a raised eyebrow, glanced at the clock then turned back to him in order to glare. "Are you serious? Goodnight Alfred." He ground out lying right back down and pulling the covers over his head to block the American out. The nerve his brother had! Waking him up in the middle of the night to go play catch? What the hell was his problem?

"Mattie! Come on, I need to talk to you. Please play catch with me?" Alfred whined, nudging at his brother persistently. Hopefully his annoying skills would exceed Matthew's patience. Matthew sent him a scolding glare but Alfred continued undaunted, accompanying his nudges with "Please! Please! Please!"

"Al! I need to sleep, we can talk in the morning." He mumbled sleepily. What did he want to talk about anyway? Oh... Was this about why he was avoiding Ivan? He recalled his feeling from last night, the one that urged him home... Maybe he was being a little mean. Now that he sleepy brain thought about it, Alfred only ever asked to play catch when it was something important he needed to talk about. But it was the middle of the night! Maybe it was just that important...

"But Papa and Dad are doing you know and I can't sleep and I need to get this off my chest." Ah, so he was right. Wait, what about Papa and Dad?

Matthew sat up a little and finally actually heard what was taking place in the rest of the home.

"R-Right there! Stop teasing, frog!"

The younger twin's face soon blushed red and he fell back into the bed with a groan. Why? Why couldn't they have thicker walls? How was he going to fall back asleep now?

"So, will you play catch?" Alfred asked hopefully and Matthew let out a long tired sigh. He pulled the covers away from himself and staggered out of bed, stretching his arms a little in order to wake up. There was no point in actually trying to fall back asleep so he might as well. Plus, he was curious to see what could be so important. But it was still so late! Ug.

"Let me get dressed, its freezing outside." He mumbled, frowning as his brother let out a quite whoop and left his room. Really, his twin would be the death of him.

* * *

Ten minutes later and Matthew was standing in his backyard, shivering. The snow around him was slowly melting but the air was frigid and bit at his skin. He was awakened from his pleasant sleep for this. He sighed but decided to suck it up. He was already here after all. Something must really be bothering Alfred since he disliked the cold more than he did. Maybe he should be a little more caring. Then again, he had just been rudely awakened.

At first, the air between them was silent as the worn baseball was passed between them. Alfred threw it, Matthew caught it in his glove. Matthew threw it, Alfred caught it. Alfred threw it, Matthew caught it. And on and on. Matthew waited patiently, if Alfred was quiet it meant that what he was about to say was _really _bothering him.

Matthew's arm was beginning to throb when Alfred finally opened his mouth. "Hey, Mattie?"

"Yeah?"

"...I can tell you anything right? And you want tell?" Alfred sounded unsure, almost like a little kid.

"Of course." Matthew reassured, finally they would start.

"And...and they're aren't any secrets between us, right?"

Matthew hesitated, Gilbert flashing through his mind. Just tell Alfred right now, come clean he though to himself. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to do so. "I'll keep your secret, I always do."

"Ok." Alfred didn't say anything else for a few more throws. Matthew caught and he threw it. Alfred caught it and he threw it. On and on and on and-

"I keep having these dreams and...I'm all confused and stuff." Alfred finally stuttered out, his face reddening. More than the cold outside could be responsible for.

"Dreams?" Matthew questioned slightly confused. Who knew, maybe Alfred was a psychic or something. Wait minute, was all this about some nightmare from watching a ghost movie? Oh if it was Alfred was a dead man, he had no right to wake hi-

"Yeah... They're about...Ivan and stuff. I don't get why I'm dreaming about the Freak." He chuckled nervously, shivering slightly from the cold.

Matthew tilted his head. Well he hadn't expected that at all, "About Ivan? Like what? Do you two fight in them or talk?"

"No...we...er..."

"What?" Matthew questioned, forgetting to throw the ball and disrupting the rhythm.

Alfred shuffled his feet nervously, his gaze not meeting his brother's. Fuck, he was going to have to tell him wasn't he? He sighed and finally locked eyes with his twin.

"They're wet dreams."

Matthew dropped the ball in surprise, a blush rising to his cheeks as he made a slight noise in the back of his throat. "Oh." was all he could manage as he bent down and picked up the ball. He stared at it, hesitating at throwing it again. Well, he certainly had not expected this kind of talk.

"Its ok if you want to stop talking." Alfred quickly apologized but Matthew shook his head immediately.

"No, its fine. But, can we go inside? Its really cold." Obviously, this was really bothering his brother and so it was only natural he would want to help him. Even if this was awkward.

"Yeah sure." Alfred agreed and followed his brother back into their home. He fidgeted nervously as he did so, unsure how he was going to even start this whole progress. Stupid commie, it was all his fault. His brother lead him to the family room where Matthew sat on the couch while Alfred remained standing. The younger got comfortable then looked up at his brother and gave a nod. A signal to begin.

"Ok, well... Let me tell you like, why I'm so bothered about all this and stuff..." Alfred began awkwardly, sitting down on one of the armchairs. He threaded his fingers through his hair, having trouble staying still when he was nervous.

"Ivan gave me a concussion so I hated him. I broke his nose, we almost got expelled so we just fought verbally and stuff. Then the whole test thing happened. And...well the Freak said that I was smart even though I had a lower grade than him. Don't know why. And then in he gave me his scarf after I..." he hesitated, licking at his dry lips nervously. He promised to never speak of the incident in the bathroom ever again. A hero always kept his word,"After I pestered him all day. During the blizzard he walked all the way here to get it and he...er well comforted me while we worried for Papa. He got me those chips from the vending machine. He helped me in the snowball fight...but then..." He faltered and remained silent.

"But then what?" His audience questioned, violet blue eyes peering at him curiously.

"He...kissed me..."

Matthew blinked, surprised. "Really?" Hadn't expected that either.

"Yeah, I know. I pushed him away and all that but he still stayed here. I couldn't even kick him out. I broke his nose before and I couldn't get him out the door! Whats wrong with me? He gave me a concussion and then he kisses me. I don't know whats going on. He's a creep, a freak. Why do I keep having these dreams about him?" Alfred questioned angrily, angry at himself really. What the hell was wrong with his head? He must have some creepy disease... The freak probably gave it to him when they kissed!

"Al, why are you so against Ivan?" Matthew asked suddenly and Alfred looked at him.

"Why? He's just so...weird and a commie."

Matthew gave him a straight face, unamused. "Alfred." Ug, it was the disappointed Dad tone of voice.

"I don't know! I just do..."

"Well, I think you should figure that out first. I know Ivan's a little odd but he's not that bad. Do you know he's really worried about you? Wait, is this why your avoiding him?" Sure, it was kind of awkward to have those kinds of dreams with a person you see every day but you couldn't just shone them for no reason. When he had dreams like that about Gilbert he just pretended everything was normal and prayed that their relationship would go further.

"He's worried? Why?" Alfred asked with a tilt of his head.

"He obviously likes you in some way Alfred. Why else would he kiss you? Have you even thought about his feelings yet? How would you feel if you kissed someone and all they did was run away?" Had his brother just blocked the poor Russian out completely? How rude! Really, his twin could be so thoughtless, so oblivious, so...so Alfred!

Alfred remained silent. He hadn't even considered what Ivan might have been thinking or feeling. It never so much as crossed his mind. That did seem pretty heartless... "Are you saying I'm the asshole?" Wasn't Mattie suppose to make him feel better?

"No. I'm just saying that you have all these negative views on him that aren't true. Why not start fresh? Maybe you'll like him." The younger offered hopefully, it was the only good advice he could think of.

"I don't _want_ to like him. He's a communistic freak." Alfred replied, frowning at the thought of _liking_ the Russian.

"I don't know what else to tell you Al." Matthew sighed, "You do realize he's not communistic nor is he a freak? Ivan is just the tall, socially awkward, shy kid in our class who happens to like you. Why not talk to him?" Or at least he assumed he liked his brother, why else would you kiss someone?

"Are you suggesting I walk over to him and tell him that I have wet dreams about him?" Alfred asked in disbelief.

Matthew raised a brow, "Of course not. Why not ask him why he kissed you? Why not ask him if he likes you?" He kind of wanted to face palm from his brother's obliviousness, but that would be rude. Alfred didn't say anything, staring at his fidgety feet. He had never noticed how interesting the carpet design was. How the white swirled in direct contrast with the deep re-

"Alfred? Are you afraid to know the answers?" Hmm, maybe he was getting somewhere...

"I'm not afraid. Heroes don't get scared." Alfred replied quickly, instinctively, not meeting his brother's gaze.

Matthew decided not to point out the numerous examples that refuted his statement, most of them concerning ghosts and zombies. "Ok, what if instead of asking him so directly you just hang out with him. Talk to him."

"Are you trying to get me to date him?"

"No." Matthew sighed, why was his twin so difficult? "Why are you so against him Alfred? Seriously, if this was anyone else you'd at least give them a _chance_."

Alfred bit his lip, why was Mattie always so right? It really got on his nerves. Couldn't he have just said: 'Wow Alfred that sure is a problem. Ivan's must have done some voodoo magic on you. Let me make you some pancakes and the dreams will go away.' See, if he had said that it would of made him feel better and he would of gotten pancakes. But no! Matthew had to be all annoying and intrusive, making him think and confusing his emotions even more.

"I don't want to like him. I don't want to date him. I just want him to leave me alone. He's ruining my life."

"I think you're ruining your own life by denying your feelings."

Alfred looked up at his brother, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Where the hell had that come from?

"I'm not denying my feelings."

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not.

"Al, remember when you broke Dad's fairy figuring, his favorite one?" Matthew brought up suddenly, perhaps if he tried another strategy he could get through to his oblivious twin.

Alfred frowned at the memory, "What about it?"

"You were really scared at first. You tried to tape it together and it didn't work. You asked for my help but I didn't know what to do. Then you hid it and lied to Dad and do you remember what happened?"

Alfred remained silent once more. Why was Matthew bringing this up? Just to bother him? He was here to help, not make him feel worse!

"You felt so guilty you ran into their room crying that night, screaming how you were sorry and refused to let go of Dad after attacking him with a hug. Do you remember how horrible you felt?"

"I was 7! What does this have to do with anything?" Alfred defended, his cheeks coloring from embarrassment.

"Its the same thing. You were too scared to own up to breaking Dad's figurine so you lied and kept the truth inside until you couldn't anymore. Now you're too scared to admit you might actually like Ivan and so you're going to keep it locked away inside. And you know whats going to happen? You're going to suffer until you come crawling to me to fix it. Maybe its already happened." Matthew continued, trying his hardest to get through his twin's thick skull with his words.

"I don't like him."

"Why did you fix his scarf?" The younger brother tried a new tactic. Something had to work, something had to be able to weasel into Alfred's brain.

"Huh?"

"Why did you fix his scarf" Matthew repeated.

"Because I'm the one who tore it." Alfred answered easily, refraining from adding a 'duh' at the end of his sentence.

"Ok, but why were you so careful?" Matthew probed.

"Because it's really precious and important to him."

"Why would you care? I thought you hated him."

"I don't hate him! I just..."

"You just what Alfred?" Matthew goaded.

"I don't know! OK? I don't know what I feel and its driving me fucking crazy! I might like him! You happy! Ah, fuck" Alfred rubbed at his temples, his brain whirling around trying to organize his thoughts.

The two remained in silence, staring at each other.

Did he like Ivan? It was such a creepy thought. Fuck... Why was his life so confusing, now?

"Just talk to him, Alfred." Matthew finally spoke up.

"...I'll try." He sighed.

Matthew gave him a reassuring smile and Alfred weakly smiled back. Why couldn't Mattie ever give him straight answer? Now his mind was in even more of a mess. Oh well, perhaps he could sleep on the question. Maybe he'd have an epiphany or something. He could hope right?

So, Mattie said that he should revise what he thought of Ivan. Start fresh. He was suppose to talk to him like a normal person and see if he liked him better afterward. Most likely he would realize that he didn't like him at all and then he could be done with all this.

Then his hormones would finally leave him alone and he could go on with his life.

* * *

Ivan stared out his window with a pout. He had yet to discover Alfred's issue with him. He didn't like it one bit. How were they ever going to consummate their relationship if Alfred continued to avoid him? This problem needed to be rectified as soon as possible.

Sadly, Alfred's brother was useless and Alfred himself was uncharacteristically quiet about the subject. The Russian had half the mind to just walk over to the Bonnefoy home and demand an answer. He sighed, he truly wished Alfred would just tell him why he was so upset.

Wasn't honesty an important factor in these sorts of relationships? Perhaps he needed to do more research...

He looked over at his clock, he hadn't notice how late it had become. It was close to three in the morning, much too late to get on the computer. The only thing to do at such an hour was to sleep... But his mind was so restless, debating the issue of the American.

He stretched his arms, feeling cramped, and heard a thud. He blinked in surprise, glancing over to see that his cell phone had fallen from his night stand. Toris had given it to him shortly after moving here but he had never used it. Well almost never. Frankly, he disliked phones very much. They were annoying and rang at the worst possible times. But, he did, at one point, steal Alfred's phone without him realizing. He had slipped it back where it belonged of course, the only reason of taking it was to get his number.

Before, he had played around with the idea of leaving threatening messages on his cell phone but never actually got around to it. Hmm... The American was most likely asleep at this hour... Still, what was the worst that could happen from ringing him? Its wasn't like had anything better to do at the moment. It would probably be highly amusing.

He shrugged and flipped the device open, cringing at the bright light that stung his eyes. He quickly pressed the American's name and held the phonne to his ear. He grew impatient as the it continued to ring and ring and ri-

"Hmm?" Came a drowsy, sleep filled response. Ivan stiffened, not exactly sure what he should say. Wait, was Alfred panting in the background? Shouldn't he be asleep?

"Alfred?" He questioned, hearing the other whimper slightly in response. Ivan's violet eyes narrowed in confusion, what was going on? Was he hurt? Tired? He probably had interrupted his sleep... But why was he panting?

"Ngn... Ah" It was as if Alfred wasn't even aware they were talking. Did the American still think he was sleeping? What was he dreaming about and...was that a moan?

"Alfred, it is Ivan." He tried to clarify. Perhaps the other hadn't realized who was on the phone with him. The American could be quite oblivious.

"_Ivan_" Came the prolonged groan that made Ivan's heartbeat accelerate a tad. What was Alfred doing? Was he? About him? Could he really be? How interesting...

"Alfred, what are you doing?"

"Ah, oh god." Alfred whimpered. Ivan could hear sheets ruffling and wondered if Alfred was masturbating or having a wet dream. It seemed like the latter since he wasn't actually responding to him. If Alfred had been masturbating he most likely would have stopped the minute his cell rang. But still... How could the American answer his cellphone without waking up?

He smirked, he could have some fun with this.

"Does that feel good Alfred?" He whispered huskily, or attempted to do so. He had never really been in such a situation but he had read enough to understand the basics.

"Yes, hmm yes" Alfred replied, his voice drowsy, distant and _needy_. Oh how Ivan wished he were there to see him.

"Would you like it _faster_?" He continued, trying to make his voice low and sultry.

"Ah! God..." The voice got distant and he could only hear the ruffling of the sheets. Had Alfred dropped the phone? How unfortunate, he was having such fun. Ivan waited a moment but could tell the American wasn't going to pick up the phone any time soon. He hung up with a pout, how disappointing.

But then, as a smirk slowly grew on his face, he realized he had the perfect conversation starter for him tomorrow. He would go to his home and question him on his dreams. Oh he couldn't wait to see the others flustered face!

* * *

Alfred squirmed in his bedsheets, eyes screwed shut and lips parted as he panted harshly. Inside his mind's eye he could picture Ivan on his knees, licking and sucking him and it felt _so good_. And he sounded so real.

He was so close, so very close and when those violet eyes looked up at him he couldn't hold it in. With a cry he came, eyes fluttering open and his chest heaving. He sat up and groaned, realizing what had just happened. Again? Really?

Mattie was right, he needed to talk to Ivan about all this. He was tired of waking up in the middle of the night to sticky boxers. Plus, Papa and Dad were onto him and he did not want to have another 'conversation' like that with them.

He rubbed at his watery eyes as the dream came back to him. This one seemed different, almost more real. Ivan's voice...There had been something odd about it. Not bad odd but good odd. If that made sense.

Wow, he must really be tired. He pulled the covers off of himself and stumbled out, staggering to his shower. Monday he would talk to him. There. He wouldn't put it off. He would just do it so he could get a good night sleep for once. Perfect plan.

Of course, Ivan's specialty seemed to be his skill of ruining all his 'perfect' plans.

* * *

Done. This chapter was difficult... I hope its acceptable  
Writing dialogue is hard!  
lol, Okay so you guys are amazing! So many reviews.  
I'm drunk on your love but don't be afraid to give me more!

So next chapter, Ivan comes over... Alfred may or may not die of humiliation~  
I'm so horribly cruel to him X3

Also, Starlenia drew fan art for this story so he should go check that out~  
Oh and if anyone else wants to, feel free to do so!

Oh, one last thing! I only have two days of school because of Thanksgiving so I may or may not be able to post more than one chapter this week. :D


	23. Chapter 22

Matthew was, yet again, woken much too early by his brother. Hadn't he just done this a few hours ago? What the hell was his problem now? The younger twin groaned, rolling over and burying his head in his pillow. Hopefully, his brother would get the message. He needed to sleep, didn't he understand that?

"Mattie." Alfred whined, poking at his sides and nudging his shoulders. Nope, no such luck. Alfred was still as annoyingly persistent as ever. Damn him.

"What Al?" Matthew questioned through the fabric of his pillow. He didn't even have the energy to lift his head, let alone get up. It better be something important, like the house falling down. Why couldn't he sleep just a little longer?

"Papa is sleeping in and I'm really hungry. Make me food."

Matthew visibly twitched. That''s what this was about? Oh, Alfred was a dead man. Defying his sleepy state, the younger sat up quickly and glared at his brother with intense fury. His fingers grasped at his pillow before he attacked Alfred, hitting him violently (though it was still pretty weak) over the head. He repeated the action, finding it to be quiet enjoyable. He should really do this more often, even if it was a little harsh. He was so tired though, and it was all Alfred's fault. He, therefore, deserved it.

"Ack. Mattie! The hell?" Alfred cried out, holding his hand up in order to shield himself from his brothers barrage of pillow swipes. What had gotten into him? It wasn't like he did anything bad!

"Do you have any idea how tired I am? Because of you no less! And you have the nerve to wake me up for food? Feed yourself!" He snapped angrily. Yes, he was usually the polite pushover but this was Alfred and he was sleep deprived. Sacrifices had to be made.

"But Mattie! You're pancakes are deliciousness incarnate! Please? Please? You're already up!" Alfred begged, his stomach growling for added affect. How could his twin be so cruel, denying his own blood the blessing of nourishment? Didn't he understand he could actually die if he wasn't fed?

Matthew sighed, realizing he was fighting a loosing battle. Alfred always got what he wanted in the end, or almost always. And he _was _already up... Damn Alfred and his slimy excuses. Why was he always being used by his brother? Especially when it came to food?

"Fine." Matthew acquiesced before quickly adding, "But you're doing the dishes."

"No fair! You're dirtying them so you should clean them!" Alfred retorted, that's how it always was! He couldn't even remember the last time he had done them. What he did remember was that he hated doing them.

"Alfred." Matthew warned and the elder shrank back slightly. He hated that tone, it was modeled after Dad's angry one. Mattie always knew what tone would manipulate him the best in whatever situation. It was really annoying.

"Fine." Alfred acquiesced and Matthew smiled. He would definitely make sure to use more dishes than needed. It wasn't like Alfred knew what the cooking process was anyway. That would show him for waking him up.

Alfred couldn't help but grin as his brother got out of his bed. Finally, he would be fed! He was absolutely starving. Usually, Papa had a light breakfast ready for him by the time he got up but he was tired from his...activities. Alfred grimaced at the mere thought before pushing it aside and focusing on the wonder that was Mattie's pancakes.

He wondered if Ivan liked pancakes. He had started eating them when he was over last week, right? That day was so hectic... It was pretty foggy in his memories.

Wait, why was he even thinking about the creep?

Oh right, he might actually _like_ him. He shivered in distaste. He knew, as soon as he talked to the Russian (as promised) he would come to his senses and hate him again. He was just suffering some sort of communistic voodoo spell...

He lifted his head as the aroma for pancakes filled the air and made his stomach growl. Finally! Oh happy day, he would be fed! He quickly sat down at the table with his grin plastered on his face as Matthew poured maple syrup on the fluffy discs. He could already taste the golden goodness. Then his eyes drifted to the kitchen sink.

His eyes widened at how the sink was filled to the brim with pots, pans and plates. How the hell had that happened? Did Mattie usually use so many dishes? He had never really paid attention... Fuck, he was going to have to clean all that. This sucked!

Yet, as the plate of pancakes was set before him and his mouth watered, it seemed to be worth it. He quickly set to work at devouring his food. It was SO good! Mattie was the best chef, second only to his teacher, Papa.

"Al, when are you going to talk to Ivan?" Matthew's words pierced through his brother's happy daze.

Alfred lifted his head up and blinked, tilting his head. What? Oh right! He was too focused on eating to recall all his issues. Why did Mattie have to remind him?

"I—munch—was-munchmunch-row and-"

"Swallow first." Matthew interrupted, looking annoyed. Alfred rolled his eyes and swallowed his food before starting again. Matthew could sound just like Dad sometimes.

"I was going to talk to him tomorrow and stuff, since we'd be at school." Alfred repeated coherently and Matthew frowned. He grabbed at the others chin, grimacing at the food all over his face.

"You are such a mess." The younger commented, ignoring the "hey!" his brother snapped out. He picked up one of the napkins to wipe at Alfred's syrup covered face. Why couldn't Alfred have learned a little bit of manners? As he dabbed, he spoke, "Why not call him today? The sooner the better."

"I don't know his number." Alfred quickly supplied. It was the first excuse that came to his mind. He wanted to put this off as far as possible. And why was Matthew cleaning his face? It was so annoying! He pulled at his face to feel the others nails dig in. He pouted and glared at his brother.

"You have Toris' number don't you? Alfred, stop procrastinating." Matthew said sternly, keeping his brother's face still for two purposes: to clean it and to keep it focused on the issue at hand. Alfred's mind tended to wander when thinking of important, serious issues.

"Why can't I just talk to him at school? You're making things more complicated! Let go of my face already." He said, annoyed at his brother's probing. Finally, the younger relinquished his grip and he could rub his sore chin.

"Al, the longer you put this off the harder its going to be." Matthew sighed out, sitting down to eat his own pancakes. In a civilized manner, mind you, unlike his brother who acted as if he hadn't eaten for a good decade.

The American made an annoyed noise in the back of his throat and finished up his pancakes. Why did he have to bring this up during food? Food was suppose to be a happy occasion! Whatever, now he could play some video games and-

"Ah ah ah. Where do you think your going, Al?" Matthew said in a cruel, mischievous tone. Alfred blinked and turned back around with a tilt of his head. "If I recall, you promised to do the dishes." His twin reminded coolly.

Shit.

Alfred sent him an angry glare as he stomped to the damn sink. He had forgotten his damns promise. It wouldn't be that hard right? He growled out when he looked into the sink. Ok, it was official, a person definitely did not need five pans to make a pancake breakfast for two. Even if Alfred ate for three people.

"Never wake me up so early for something as stupid as you being to lazy to feed yourself." Matthew warned, dumping his dirty plate into the sink with a smirk and going to sit at the counter. Hopefully, his brother would learn his lesson.

"You did this on purpose, didn't you? You're so mean Mattie." He whined, hopefully his twin would feel guilty and help him out. He hadn't been forced to do dishes for so long! This fucking sucked. Matthew sat and watched him with unshielded amusement. Oh, Alfred deserved this.

The American peered over his shoulder and frowned, "Are you just going to sit there and watch?"

"Yep." Matthew answered.

"Then help!" Alfred ordered. How was that fair? If he wasn't going to do anything then he could help his brother out!

"That would defeat the purpose." Matthew stated simply with a grin.

"...You suck so much."

Matthew chuckled lightly and turned when something caught his eye in the window. Was that who he thought it was?

"So you're waiting until tomorrow to talk to Ivan, right?" He reiterated, eyes watching the window that faced the front of the house intently. What perfect timing...

"Yeah, why do you keep bothering me about it?" Alfred answered, scrubbing at one of the pans. Couldn't Matthew just let him be?

"Because I think the universe wants you to talk to him today."

"And why would you say that?" Alfred asked, confused. He turned his head to look at Matthew who was focusing his gaze on the window. Weird... He thought the whole point of his evil plan was to watch him suffer...

"Because he's about to ring our doorbell." Matthew announced, turning to him with a small smirk as the chime rang through out the home. Alfred stiffened, the plate falling from his grasp and back into the sink, clinking loudly as it hit the other ones.

"Wh-what?" He squeaked, turning his head to the door in surprise. It rang again. This couldn't be happening. He wasn't ready!

"Go talk to him Alfred. I'll handle the dishes." Matthew offered, coming toward the blond. Alfred shook his head quickly.

"No, I'll do them! Its my job right? Its so much, I can't have my little brother do them all." He quickly stated, the excuses falling from his lips in a hurry. Matthew smiled at him, grasping his shoulders and pushing him toward the door.

"Don't worry, I'll put them in the dishwasher!" He said cheerily and Alfred paled.

"Dishwasher? You asshole!" He exclaimed as the door came closer and closer. And the damn Russian kept ringing the bell.

"I never said you couldn't use it~" Matthew reminded, stepping away and returning to the kitchen. Gilbert would probably be proud of his cunning revenge plan, he'd have to tell him. Alfred cursed his brother under his breath. Maybe he could just ignore Ivan and-

"ANSWER THE BLOODY DOOR! WE'RE TRYING TO SLEEP! YOU'RE FATHER IS STILL RECOVERING!" Came a loud shriek from one of the upstairs rooms. God his father had lungs, he bet even Ivan had heard that. And he must have because he suddenly stopped pressing the doorbell. Maybe if they had actually slept last night instead of doing _that_ they wouldn't be so tired!

With a groan, Alfred unlocked the door and opened it, revealing the tall Russian student. The cold rushed into his home and he cringed.

"May I come in?" Ivan asked politely, eyes eating up the American's bare chest. He'd have to get him without his shirt more often... It was quite an appealing look.

Alfred blushed, the cold reminding him that he was just in sweat pants as he quickly ushered the Russian in. He had forgotten after his shower this morning he had only put on some sweat pants... And he had only been around Mattie so it didn't matter if he was half naked. It did matter, though, if he was in front of Ivan. He hurriedly grabbed the nearest garment—one of his father's stuffy sweaters—and slipped it on.

"Oh, you didn't have to." Ivan teased. Truthfully he much preferred the bare expanse of the others toned chest to this ugly sweater. It didn't suit him in the least.

"Shut up. Why are you even here?" He snapped angrily, crossing his arms and glaring at the taller teen. He just had to come at this very moment didn't he? He and his stupid commie mind powers. Maybe he could just kick the other out.

"Alfred." Came a warning tone from the kitchen and Alfred growled. Fuck, he wasn't prepared to talk to the freak now but he was going to have too. Stupid Mattie and his promise.

"I am here to speak to you about your recent behavior toward me amongst other things." Ivan answered truthfully, eying the kitchen where Alfred's brother's voice emanated from. He would prefer to have this conversation alone.

Alfred could feel his twin's eyes burning into the back of his head, reminding him he had no chance of escape, "Fine. Lets go to my room."

* * *

Ivan found himself in Alfred's room for the third time ever. He sat on the bed with a smirk, so this is the bed that housed Alfred's wet dreams of him?

"Stop that creepy smiling, alright? I'm not going to talk to you if you're like that." Alfred said quickly, wondering where he should sit. The idea of siting next to Ivan, on his bed, was just too weird. He decided to settle in his desk chair.

"Are you going to tell me what has made you act so cold towards me?" Ivan asked bluntly. He had learned that was the best tactic when dealing with the American. He could be so dense sometimes. And, besides, if he didn't give him an answer he would confront him about their interesting conversation last night.

Alfred let out a sigh, spinning his chair around lazily. "...You kissed me." He finally stated, hoping that would suffice and the other would leave.

"I know that's not the reason. You acted mostly fine right afterward." Ivan reminded. Alfred better stop spinning, it was making him dizzy.

Shit, "Yeah, well, it hadn't sunk in yet. Why the hell did you kiss me anyway? And don't give me that 'keep you warm' bullshit." He snapped, he wasn't going to be the only one confessing tonight!

"I wish to better our relationship." Ivan answered simply and truthfully. Honesty was the best way, da? So, he would try that.

"Are you saying you want to date me?" Alfred asked, the idea so odd in his mind. Dating Ivan...Ug it was so awkward!

"Yes, and then we can have intercourse." Ivan nodded.

Alfred stared at him with wide blue eyes, the chair stopping it's slow circles. Not even in his creepy hormone filled dreams had he gone that far with Ivan! "Hell no! That's not just how it works! Sex? You want to have sex?"

Ivan tilted his head, "I do not understand. This is the American way, yes? You fight with your future partner constantly, then you kiss him unexpectedly and trick him into a date. Then you have intercourse. Correct?" He had been so sure that was how it was done in America. Or at least when targeting a homosexual partner...

"Where the hell did you get the idea that that was how things worked?" Alfred cried out, horrified at the Russian's understanding of his culture.

"You're French father."

Alfred dropped his face into his palms. Well, everything made sense now. Fuck. Papa why? Why? He lifted his head up, threading his fingers through his blond short hair. Papa just had to go and corrupt another person's brain with his embarrassing stories.

"First off, never listen to a damn word he says. Ever. Second off, that's not how it works at all. My parents are just weird, ok?" Alfred clarified, hoping Ivan wasn't too convinced that his Papa's way was the right way.

"Then how does it work when a male courts another male?" Ivan asked curiously. The whole idea had been foreign to him before meeting Alfred.

"Well, first you have to actually _like_ each other. Then you go on dates to get to know each other better. Then you figure out if you actually _love_ each other and after that well... You get married, I guess." He tried to explain, but it was much more complicated then that...

"When does intercourse come into play?"

"Sex isn't the most important thing." Alfred replied. Because it wasn't. Papa always said that sex was about expressing your love to the person you cared most about and Dad always said that it was best to wait until your ready. Sex was something you did with someone special, not to some guy you fought with and especially not right after you met.

"But your Fren-"

"What did I say? Never listen to a word he says! He's just a sex maniac. You know when to have sex when you know." Alfred interrupted starting to spin his chair again. Well this was certainly not what he imagined this conversation being like. Hadn't Ivan had this talk before? Sure he was in an orphanage but certainly someone must of told him something.

Ivan frowned in thought. It seemed he had been assuming that Alfred and his French father shared the same views on courtship... Alfred's view seemed surprisingly more sweet and old fashioned, perhaps he got it from his English father? So, the first step was to see if Alfred liked him, right?

"Alfred, do you like me?" Again, bluntness was key when trying to get answers from the American.

The chair stopped spinning at the question and Alfred stared at him. To Ivan's surprise, Alfred didn't give him a loud, quick 'no'. Instead, he looked at the floor thinking.

"...I don't know anymore." He sighed, defeatedly. Well, Ivan had not expected that.

"Is that why you are having wet dreams featuring me?" He asked.

Alfred's heart stopped completely. His eyes shooting open to stare at Ivan. What? What? "WHAT?" He squawked out. How did he know that? How the fuck did he know that? Had Mattie told him? Why would Mattie tell him? No, Mattie would never do that! But how did he know? Holy shit, had he bugged his room? His clothes? Holy fucking shit, he had placed a chip inside his brain that told him what he was dreaming of! The bastard!

"I called you last night. You answered while having a wet dream. I remember distinctly you moaning my name." Ivan continued, failing to suppress his smug smirk. Oh how he loved it when Alfred got all red from being embarrassed.

No. No. NO. NO! This was not happening. Ivan did NOT hear him moan his name. The idea was way too mortifying, he had to be lying!

"So, what was I doing to you? I'm quite curious, you seemed to be enjoying it very much from the noises you were making." It was just so much fun to rile him up.

Alfred's face was as red as the communistic flag which was probably the asshole's whole plan. He ignored Ivan, wishing he didn't exist at all and dived for his cellphone. He would check his call history, find that Ivan was, in fact, lying and kick him out of the house for even saying that.

_Call from 555-555-1230 at 2:51 am_

The glowing screen mocked him, displaying that the call had lasted almost a minute.

Fuck.

This couldn't be happening.

"Alfred?" Ivan questioned, wondering why the other hadn't responded yet.

"What? What do you want me to say?" Alfred snapped, turning toward him angrily. He was so fucking sick of all this shit that kept happening to him. "Fine! I've been having fucking wet dreams about you? Are you happy? You gonna make fun of me? You gonna make my life hell by telling everyone? Well its too fucking late! You've already ruined my entire life Ivan!"

Ivan blinked, well he had not expected that. Not at all. He was ruining his life? He hadn't meant for that to happen... Why did he care though? And why was his chest hurting?

Alfred took in a ragged breath, his body trembling from his outburst. His heart clenched slightly, even he could tell that the words were harsh but for some reason he couldn't stop them from spilling forth. He was just so frazzled and embarrassed and his mind was still reeling with the revelation that Ivan had actually _heard _him.

"... I apologize. I did not mean to ruin your life. I was merely curious." Ivan replied finally, standing up to could tell he was not wanted here. For once he would actually leave instead of ignoring the other person's wishes just to annoy them. For some reason, he didn't want Alfred to hate him more. Because he obviously did hate him, a lot. He felt something clench tighter in his chest but decided to ignore it. It was probably nothing.

Fuck. "Wait! Just... Just wait" Alfred sighed, rubbing his temples and collapsing back into his chair. Everything with Ivan was always so fucking complicated.

"You do not wish for me to leave?" Ivan asked, perplexed. Didn't he hate him?

"No...I don't" Alfred replied heavily, looking at his carpet.

"Why?" Ivan couldn't help but ask.

"I've been asking myself that for the past week." Alfred chuckled dryly. "Look, every fiber of my being tells me I should despise you, and I did. But now...Now I don't fucking know anymore." There, he said it. And he did feel a little better.

"So... You do not hate me?"

"No, I don't hate you." He didn't hate him, that much he was sure of.

"But you are unsure if you like me?" Ivan just wanted to clarify. He did not wish to misunderstand something once more.

"Yep" And they were back to square one. Hey wait... Why was he the only one suffering? "What about you? Do you like me?" That was such an awkward thing to ask him.

"I think so. You are the only person that I enjoy being with." Ivan answered truthfully, not bothered very much by the question.

"...You like being with me?" He hadn't expected that. He was sort of flattered. Most people said he was really annoying to be around.

"Da, you are not afraid of me and your reactions are quite amusing." The Russian continued, that creepy smile returning to his features.

"You don't... don't think I'm annoying?" Alfred winced slightly at his own comment. It made him sound so insecure.

"Nyet, I do find you very annoying. But I don't mind because your reactions to my teasing are worth it." Ivan assured.

Alfred reddened slightly, pushing his chair so that it spun again. This was so weird. Was Ivan being...endearing?

"Oh and your flushed face when you are embarrassed is very adorable, like right now." Ivan commented with a smirk. The blond sent him a glare though his face became even redder which ruined the effectiveness of the glare. Ivan giggled at the attempt.

"Shut up."

Ivan obeyed, violet eyes looking around the room. He didn't want to upset him. He wondered what they were suppose to do now. Could he just skip to the date part? Alfred hadn't said no to liking him, he had just said he was unsure. Perhaps he could convince him during their dates.

"Ivan, are you just assuming that people who fight with each other automatically fall in love? Because if you are you're completely wrong. You're probably just confused about liking me." Alfred tried to reason. This all had to be a mistake. It just had to be.

"Nyet, I know I like you. And it is not because we fight, though I do enjoy our fights. I find you to be a very interesting person, little American and I wish for our relationship to grow further."

Alfred spun around faster. This conversation was so weird and Ivan was actually being nice and sweet which was totally weird. What was he suppose to even say?

"Alfred, may I ask you out on a date?" Ivan asked suddenly, his violet eyes looking up at the spinning teen. He stuck his foot out, stopping the chair and having Alfred's eyes lock on his violet ones.

"I...Er..." Shit, he didn't know. This was still so weird.

"I would like a chance." The violet orbs bored into him and Alfred looked away.

Well, when he put it that way... "...Fine. One chance. Just to figure out this fucking mess."

"прекрасно. Friday is the normal date day correct?" _(Wonderful.)_

"Yeah, I guess." Alfred shrugged, still trying to accept the fact he had just accepting to go on a date with Ivan.

"Da. I will give you more information tomorrow at school." Now, what to do on their date? He couldn't ask his French father because Alfred didn't approve of his advice. Perhaps his brother? Yes, he would ask him. Usually, he was useful.

Ivan stood up, leaving the bedroom. The business for the day had ended on a surprisingly wonderful note. Finally, he was one step closer to his goal. Perhaps he could even get advice from the others twin at this moment!He looked around as he walked down the steps and reached the front door. Sadly, he was no where to be seen. Oh well, he would just ask him tomorrow at school.

"I will see you tomorrow, Alfred." Ivan stated, standing in front of the door.

"Yeah, yeah." Alfred replied awkwardly, scratching at the back of his head. How did get himself into these things? A date with Ivan. A_ date _with _Ivan_?

"What? No kiss goodbye or is that another custom I have misunderstood?" Ivan teased with his smirk as he stood in turned to leave.

Alfred chewed at his lip, waiting for Ivan to just go already. Though, as he heard the request float through his ears his body reacted without him thinking. He did that a lot didn't he? He really needed to stop that.

Ivan was quite surprised when he saw the other lean up and kiss him lightly and much to briefly on his lips. "There. Now go." Alfred quickly murmured, opening his door and practically shoving the surprised teen out the door. Fuck, why had he done that? He slammed the door shut before Ivan could even react. He leaned his back on the wood and slid down until he sat on the floor with his knees raised up and his hands pulling at his blond strands. The universe really did hate him.

He raised his head slightly to see his brother staring down at him. Matthew stood in front of him with a raised brow, a curious look in his violet blue eyes.

"Leave me alone." Alfred mumbled out, looking at the floor in front of him. His twin didn't listen to him.

"Well, I'm assuming something big happened. You did just kiss him." Matthew pointed out with a slight smirk.

"Ug, don't remind me. We have a date Friday." Alfred sighed, hitting his head back on the door with a groan. How could he have let this happen?

"It'll be ok, Al." Matthew assured, offering his hand to his brother. "Now, come on. I'll play some video games with you." Usually, that made his twin feel better. And, by the looks of his current position, he really did need a pick-me-up.

Alfred stared at the hand in front of him before taking it, hauling himself up onto his feet. "Fine." The pair started toward the stairs, side by side before Alfred remembered something. "...So we have a dishwasher?"

"Yep." Matthew nodded, trying to hold back his triumphant grin.

"You do realize I'm going to crush you in this game?" Alfred threatened coolly, ready to get some pay back. He needed it.

"Oh, I don't know about that..." Matthew replied slyly, "It all depends on who gets the good controller."

The two stared at each other for a fleeting moment and then they were off. Laughing, pushing and tugging their way to Alfred's bedroom door in the quest for the good controller, and, in Alfred's case, for some peace of mind.

* * *

Early chapter is done early.  
Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I hope you all enjoyed your holiday and ate until you were a good ten pounds fatter :)  
Here's your present.  
I hope you like the chapter. For those who care, Sentenced was updated so check that out.  
Its like past midnight and I'm really tired so I'm cutting my rambling short.

Before I forget, if you guys have any Ivan and Alfred date ideas feel free to suggest them in reviews. The date will probably happen the chapter after next... I think...  
Anyway, review! Review so that I feel complete inside. Without them, my heart shatters!  
Ok, maybe thats a bit extreme.  
Still, I love you so you should love me back through reviews!

PS: I changed my name... no reason really, just felt like it X)


	24. Chapter 23

For the first night, in a long span of nights, Alfred had a good night sleep. No wet dreams, no impure thoughts, no cold showers. Just blissful dreams. And it truly did show. All morning he was a bundle of energy, running around as he got ready for school and ate his breakfast.

Arthur had raised his brow at his son's bubbly energy, especially because it was a Monday morning. He sipped his tea carefully and watched as Alfred was all smiles and laughs. He wondered if something had happened. Well, at least whatever happened made him happy.

Matthew, himself, was also happy because he too was blessed with a good night sleep. His brother had refrained from waking him up at an ungodly hour and he was feeling the benefits. Plus, Alfred's laughter could be quite infectious. Glancing at the clock they realized it was about time they leave. The twins quickly finished their breakfasts, grabbed their bags, and ran out of the house to catch their bus.

"Do you have any idea what has gotten into them?" Arthur asked his husband, who was taking his hair out of its loose ponytail since he was done cooking.

"Non, but it seems whatever has been bothering Alfred has been sorted out." He replied, taking a few steps away to look into one of the hallway mirrors. His fingers played with his hair and Arthur snorted at his vanity.

"Quoi? Can't I pride myself on my appearance?" Francis complained, looking at his husband with a pout. He could be so cruel sometimes.

"You obsess over your looks to a dangerous level, frog." Arthur said back, flipping his newspaper. He smirked as the Frenchman pouted further, deriving pleasure from the others suffering. It was quite amusing to tease him, in fact, it was one of his favorite past times.

"_I_ obsess over my looks? And you Arthur? Every night you take thirty minutes deciding on what to wear and another thrity minutes to iron it out perfectly."

Arthur felt heat rise to his face and grumbled something unintelligible about the French before sticking his nose into his paper. He was only being a gentleman! And a gentleman always wore perfectly tailored clothing that sported not even a single wrinkle! Francis chuckled, slinking over to stand right behind the Englishman.

"If only you took as much care in the upkeep of your hair." The Frenchman sighed, his fingers running through the unruly golden mop. He tried to smooth down the wild strands but to no avail. Still, he continued threading his fingers through the blond locks, smiling lazily.

"My hair is just fine the way it is!" Arthur snapped, refusing to admit that he enjoyed the feeling of the others fingers in his hair. Francis' hair made him look girly, his own hair was perfectly fine. He did not lean his neck back as consent for Francis to continue, he was just... Bloody hell, he did like the feeling of him massaging his scalp with those skilled hands.

"Whatever you say, Arthur" Francis murmured, nuzzling his face into the blond's hair. His hands glided downward to rest on his lover's shoulders, squeezing them lightly. He knew just what Arthur liked, hopefully he could have some fun this morning.

"I have to go to work." Arthur reminded reluctantly, finishing off his tea. He had responsibilities at the shop, he couldn't just stay home for no reason.

"You can go in late." Francis whispered into his ear, leaning down to nibble at the lobe. His nimble fingers massaged at the others tense shoulders, urging him to stay. He knew when those shoulders relaxed it would signal that he had won.

"Frog." Arthur warned as he stood up, trying to pull away from the other. Even with a broken leg Francis could hold his own if it came to the prospects of sex. He was annoying in the way.

He pressed up onto the Englishman, cornering him with the table and placed a strong grip on his hips to hold him still. He supposed he'd have to cut the kissed him heatedly and Arthur finally complied, looping his hands around the others neck to pull him closer. Francis internally smirked, ever since the accident it had been much easier to coax Arthur into sex.

He pushed him down onto the table, never breaking away from those sinfully skilled lips. He blindly pushed away the tea, the plates, the newspaper and whatever else remained on the table as he ground his hips dow-

"Forgot my noteb- OH GROSS!" Alfred cried out, closing his eyes and turning away. "On the kitchen table? Really?" Blindly, he grabbed at his notebook before quickly scurrying out of the house. Wanting to get the mental picture out of his mind. Damn his forgetful nature!

Arthur took his chance, face red from embarrassment, as he slipped from his husbands clutches and hurried to the door. It was a sign that he should leave for work. Plus, he wanted to send a message to the bloody wino that he wasn't that easy to take advantage of. Or maybe he liked the idea of the other suffering with a hard on for the rest of the day. "Not this time frog." He mocked cruelly, slamming the door shut. Francis frowned as he heard the car leave.

How disappointing. Now what would he do? He wasn't suppose to return to work until Wednesday. He was stuck, alone at home with no husband to play with. Then, slowly, his frown was replaced with an evil little smirk. He would prepare for tonight, and, because Arthur had been so cruel to deny him, he believed handcuffs were in order. Yes, tonight he would take Arthur as many times as he wanted.

* * *

Ivan looked around the mass of high school students, trying to pinpoint the younger twin's head. No luck, unfortunately, there were a lot of blonds in this school to search through. He changed tactics, searching for an albino head and quickly spotted it. The white haired student was moving down to another hallway, and beside him, just as Ivan had expected, was his target.

He pushed his way through, the task made easier by his intimidating aura because the other students made way for him. He enjoyed such treatment, it came in handy in instances such as these. He quickly made his way down the hall, watching the pair with keen interest.

Gilbert was talking (which was yelling to a normal person) and holding Matthew's hand who seemed to just nod his head and smile patiently. He knew they were a couple, it was quite obvious, especially with Gilbert's constant displays of affection. Though, they seemed to settle down whenever Alfred was around... He wasn't sure why. Still, the German was usually all over the blond.

Like right now, when he kissed the other before pulling away with a grin. Matthew flushed and slapped his arm in feigned anger. Ivan wondered it he and Alfred would be like that...

He glanced at the clock in the hall, he was running out of time. He hurried forward and grasped the younger's shoulder, pulling him back. Matthew let out a surprised yelp, his hand tearing away from Gilbert's as he was unceremoniously wrenched away. Didn't this happen before? Luckily, he wasn't dragged away far, just a few feet.

Gilbert blinked in surprise before running back to Matthew's side. The hell? You couldn't just steal someone's boyfriend like that. It was so not awesome.

"Matvey, I need your opinion." Ivan stated, ignoring the angry albino tugging at Matthew's sleeve in a futile attempt to get him back. Ivan's hand remained on his shoulder just in case he tried to leave, firmly keeping him in place.

"Um...Ok." Matthew stumbled the words out, what else could he say? He had a sneaking suspicion Ivan wouldn't let him refuse even if he tried...

"Where would you advise a couple to go on their first date?"

"Oh, is this about your date with Alfred?" Matthew clarified, relaxing slightly. Gilbert paused, confusion replacing anger and then curiosity replacing confusion.

"Date? With Alfred? Woah! When did that happen?" He exclaimed, looking at Ivan with renewed interest. Seriously, last time he checked Alfred hated his Russian guts.

"Yes, they're going out on their first date at some point this week." Matthew stated and Ivan nodded. He didn't see why Gilbert needed to know but he had nothing to hide. Well, nothing where it concerned Alfred.

"So advice?" Matthew reiterated.

"Da. Should I take him to a romantic restaurant?" That was his original plan because the twin's french father had done so on his first date but, after his and Alfred's conversation, he realized the two didn't share the same view on the courting process. He didn't want to mess this up.

"No. I don't think Alfred would appreciate that. Um, you guys should probably hang out you know? Like on Saturday just spend the day together..." Matthew offered. He knew his brother was very reluctant and confused about this whole thing so making it a casual outing would probably be the best.

"What are you talking about Matt? Listen big guy, what you gotta do is be smooth. Take it from the awesome me, go on a romantic dinner then catch a movie and totally sneak a move when you're in the dark!" Gilbert advised with a great big grin. It was wiped off as Matthew elbowed him in the stomach quite harshly. Why was his boyfriend being so mean?

"Don't listen to him. Look, you should just hang out and do things that you like. Why not ask Alfred where he would like to go? I'm sure he'd appreciate that."

"No! Surprise him. Oh, you should rent a horse drawn carriage and go around the park with hot chocolate!" The albino cackled at the idea and Matthew glared at him. Gilbert ignored him, shiny red eyes looking up into violet ones. "Or you could hold hands and walked down the beach, collecting heart shaped sea shells as the moon basks its light upon you!"

"Gilbert! Shut up already! You're not helping." Matthew hissed out. "Ivan, just do something simple and fun and casual. You might scare Alfred away if you're too forward."

Ivan nodded slowly, trying to take in all the information. He felt more confused now than before. Especially with the albino driving in useless information. He really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut. Perhaps he should teach him one day, he thought darkly.

"Where did you two go on your first date?" Ivan asked curiously. Maybe he could copy them since it seemed to have worked out fine.

Matthew reddened, shifting slightly. Should he deny the relationship? What if Ivan told Alfred? He certainly didn't want his brother to find out that way!

"We went to the movies and then got some ice cream." Gilbert responded proudly, snaking an arm around Matthew's shoulders to pull him closer. So much for denying it.

"Umm Ivan? Please don't tell Alfred we're dating." Matthew mumbled quietly, hoping the Russian would accept it without questions.

"Why?" Ivan asked, perplexed. Was he keeping it a secret? They weren't doing a very good job in his opinion.

"Because... Because I haven't told him yet and its best that I tell him." Matthew defended his decision. He would tell him that his little brother was dating, just when the time was right...

"Fine. I will not tell. And I will think about the advice." Ivan said, turning around and leaving for his first period class. He should probably find Alfred before hand though... Matthew nodded and watched him leave.

"Gil, what the hell was that?" He scolded, giving the student a harsh glare.

"What? I thought my advice was perfect!" The albino defended, "Plus why are you taking this so serious? Do you honestly think _those_ two would ever get together?"

"Gil, Alfred is really confused by all this and I'd really appreciate it if you would refrain from messing all this up. Ok?"

"Ok, Ok. Sheesh. I'll refrain from interfering, though it would only get awesomer if I did." The albino decided not to bring up the fact that Matthew still hadn't told Alfred about their own relationship. He was getting tired of keeping it a secret but Matt wasn't ready to tell everyone yet...For some reason.

"Right..." Matthew rolled his eyes, thoughts drifting toward his brother's predicament.

Ivan was pretty scary, though Alfred never thought so. Still, was it ok to let his brother be with the Russian alone? The last time he encouraged Alfred to be with Ivan his brother had gotten a concussion. Granted, Alfred's idiocy had brought that on but...

"Matt? You ok? You got all frowny and unawesome.." Gilbert tugged at his hand, looking at him with worried ruby eyes, concerned about the others shift in moods. Matthew gave him a reassuringly smile.

"Oh, its nothing... I was just wondering if Alfred would be ok, alone with Ivan..."

"You're brother can take care of himself. And we know he can hold his own against that big Ruski" The Prussian commented, trying to reassure his cute little boyfriend. He hated it when Matthew was sad or worried.

"Yeah... But Alfred's pretty naive..." Matthew murmured, worry growing as he though more about it. Ivan seemed kind of manipulative and Alfred was sometimes too trusting of people. And with his emotions in a disarray as they had been for the past few days, it would be harder for him to realize when things were going downhill and he was in danger. What if his twin got hurt because he urged him to give the Russian a chance?

"Don't worry. Hey if you want, Saturday we can check on them. You know, covert style." Gilbert grinned at the idea. They could wear suits and sunglasses, sneak around in the bushes... Make out in the background... Awesome.

"I suppose we could. But not stalk them! Just make sure Al is ok..." Matthew mused. God, he felt like Alfred. Jumping to conclusion and he felt this idea was pretty stupid too... And usually it was Al who was overprotective of him, not the other way around.

Still, he'd rather be safe than sorry.

"Yeah, ok we can do that..."

* * *

Alfred's happy attitude seemed to crumble away, leaving behind self doubt and hesitation when he saw Ivan. Shit, how was he suppose to act toward him now? Was he suppose to be friendly? Loving? Ok no, not loving. Should he just ignore him? Should he talk to him? Shit, why was his life so complicated now?

"Hello Alfred." Ivan greeted with his usual creepy smile.

"Er..Hey." Well that was an awkward greeting. Come on Alfred, don't let the commie win. Just act normal, as if you weren't going out on date with him in the near future.

"Our date will be on Saturday. I shall pick you up at three." Well, that made it harder not to think about it.

"Oh...Ok" Alfred answered but then froze. Wait, three? That early? "What are we going to do that we need to start at three?"

Ivan shrugged, "I am still planning that part out. We shall enjoy each others company for the entire day and into the night."

"The entire day?" Alfred echoed feeling his stomach twist. Oh crap, he was not looking forward to that. They could barely keep a conversation going for longer than three minutes and they were suppose to hang out for an _entire _day? He knew this was a bad idea. Stupid Mattie, making him go along with all this.

"Do you have any suggestion of what we should do?" Ivan asked suddenly, interrupting Alfred's inner turmoil.

"Wait, you're asking me for input?" Ivan wasn't really like that. If he had an idea he would just roll with it and ignore anyone elses complaints. It was always his way, no matter what.

"Da, you are going on this date as well. I would prefer it if you enjoyed yourself during it." Ivan answered honestly, wondering why the other was so shocked that he would ask for his opinion.

"Oh." That was...kind of nice... Wait a minute. Why was he acting like such a girl? He was a man. No. He was a hero! And hero's didn't just sit on their asses until they were swept off their feet! No, they did the charming, they took action.

"I'll have to think about it, don't worry I'll think of something absolutely amazing." Alfred promised, his grin returning on to his face.

The bell rang and they parted ways, Alfred off to Spanish and Ivan off to his dreaded English class.

* * *

Fuck. He couldn't think of anything. What the hell were they suppose to do in ten minutes? Yeah, that's right ten minutes. Today was the fucking day and he still had nothing. What kind of a hero was he? A sucky one, that's who.

Damn it, who could he ask? He felt bad for asking Mattie for almost everything. He must really be annoyed by all his complaining by now. Plus, he was the big brother! He was suppose to be the one Mattie turned to!

He definitely did not want to ask his parents. Dad would probably yell at the idea of dating Ivan while Papa would just tell him some crazy positions that made things more _pleasurable._ Uck, such a creepy thought. Sex with Ivan...

Get the image out of your head. Get it out. He shivered in distaste. Back to the issue on hand.

"It'll be fine." Matthew assured, giving him a comforting pat on his shoulder. "Just try and have fun. Have an open mind and don't over think everything." He cautioned.

"I can't believe you're making me do this. Can't I cancel?" Alfred asked, his last ditch effort at escape. He would rather do homework then suffer the awkwardness that was to come.

"Too late, he's here. Good luck Al!" Matthew pushed him toward the door as it rang, signaling the arrival of his date.

Alfred sent him a glare before answering the door. Ivan smiled at him and the American sighed, resigning himself to his fate. He quickly grabbed the keys to his Papa's car (Ivan apparently couldn't drive nor had any plans to learn so he would be chauffeuring them on this day of hell) and left the relative safety of his home for the unknown of this weird-ass date.

Matthew shook his head with a sigh, his brother could be so very childish. Speaking of childish people, he needed to pick up Gilbert so that they could go on their own date. He called a goodbye to Papa, who had watched the whole spectacle with an amused smile, and grabbed the key to his Dad's car. Francis let out a little chuckle as his sons left for their own dates. How adorable, they were growing up so fast.

"What are you chuckling about?" Arthur questioned, coming down into the kitchen. Was the frog really just laughing to himself? He must of gone insane, then again he already was in many aspects.

"Rien, anyway, we have the whole house to ourselves now." Francis whispered seductively, his eyebrows moving suggestively.

"Its three o'clock in the afternoon! Keep it in your pants, damn Frenchy. Where are the boys?" Arthur hadn't known they had plans for the day...

"Out with Ivan and Gilbert" Francis replied, limping over to his husband's side so he could wrap his arms around him. He was not going to pass up the chance of doing very dirty things for a few hours. It was the perfect opportunity! Their children would be gone at least until dinner time, most likely later, which meant he had a huge window of opportunity to ravage his little Englishmen.

"Get off of me! I'm leaving, I'll go check on the bakery or the shop. Anything to get away from you when your acting like sex deprived Frenchman." Arthur snapped, trying to pry the groping hands from his body. No such luck. Sex deprived his arse! In fact the lingering pain in his arse could prove how satisfied Francis should be. Ungrateful bastard.

"Oh but mon amour, they took both of our cars. You are trapped in my loving embrace~" Francis cooed, peppering kisses along the struggling man's neck.

"What do you mean they took both cars? Why would they go separately?"

"Why, because they're each going on their own dates." Francis tensed, he wasn't suppose to say that. He definitely wasn't suppose to say that.

"Dates?" Arthur questioned, turning around to face the blond. Francis retracted his grip, looking sheepishly at the Englishman. "What dates? I was unaware that my sons were dating anyone. Care to enlighten me, frog?" His tone growing darker with every passing syllable he uttered.

"Er Well, Matthieu and Gilbert... They have been dating for quite some time now..." Francis answered, eyes shifting towards where the kitchen knives were. He needed to make sure they staid a considerable length away from his husband. He could get quite violent sometimes.

"My little, baby Matthew has been dating that—that obnoxious German? And for some time! When were you going to tell me?" Arthur growled incredulously, how could he keep this from him? Something this important. How could he even allow his precious Matthew to date the horrid albino! Sure, he could tolerate them as friends but this was something totally different.

"I was waiting for Matthieu to tell us himself! You see, he has been keeping it a secret from all of us, even Alfred! I figured it out because it is my specialty, but I didn't want to tell anyone until he admitted it." Francis quickly defended, raising his hands up in defense.

"And Alfred?" Arthur continued darkly.

"Now this I just found out a few moments ago! It appears that our little Alfred has a date with Ivan today."

"Ivan? The boy who sent our little Alfred to the hospital! The boy who almost broke his leg and almost got him expelled! You're letting that boy date our Alfred! How dare you let that happen! What if my baby gets hurt!" Arthur seethed, this just proved how horrible a parent Francis truly was!

"Non! Alfred is not a baby anymore, Arthur. He has proven to be quiet capable of defending himself against Ivan. And that was weeks ago. Have you even seen them now? They have become quiet friendly!" Francis reasoned, really Arthur could be too overprotective sometimes.

"I do not want him seeing that boy, Francis! He's a dangerous individual and gave Alfred a concussion. When they are together, Alfred only gets hurt! I refuse to let anyone else get hurt because of your carelessness. I'm sick of getting calls from the hospital, telling me that someone I love is currently being treated because some deranged student beat him up or some stupid driver ran him into the railing!" Arthur took in some deep, heavy breaths. His whole body trembling from the outburst. The ordeal had been weighing him down and he finally was able to let it out. He was so tired of people getting hurt in his life.

Francis' eyes softened and he reached over to his shaking husband, "Arthur..."

"I don't want to hear you." Arthur hissed back, turning away and crossing his arms. Damn it, Francis always had this bloody effect on him. He was always able to wear him down to his raw emotion.

"Shh, its ok. I understand." Francis murmured soothingly, wrapping his arms in a comforting embrace so much more different than the perverted one from seconds before. "Alfred will be fine, you do not have to worry. When he comes home you may speak to him about your worries but I'm sure he'll be alright. Remember, Alfred has sent Ivan to the hospital himself."

"That's not the bloody point" Arhtur whispered angrily, mostly at himself for getting so undone like this. Stupid frog.

"You can't protect him every moment of his life Arthur. Sometimes you have to set them free and trust them to take care of themselves. Our little boys are growing up into smart capable young men. They are not the scared little ones that stumbled on our doorstep so many years ago." Francis' words were soft and soothing, full of warmth as he tried to make Arthur relax in his arms. "And soon, they will leave to be in the world and live their own lives."

"I want them to stay my happy little baby boys forever." Arthur confessed softly, knowing that they would eventually leave him. The thought still made him so very sad.

"I do too Arthur, but that is impossible. Instead, we must let them have a little freedom because soon we won't be in charge of them any longer. And when that day comes, all we can offer is a place they can always return to if they ever face any trouble." Francis continued, kissing his husband on the forehead lovingly.

"I refuse to admit you ever being right." Arthur murmured, "But this is the closest I've ever gotten to saying it."

Francis chuckled, kissing him softly and enjoyed how his lover kissed back. Perhaps, now they could have some fun? Of course, he wouldn't do anything kinky... Maybe just some normal, passionate love making to reassure him he'd always be there for him. Nothing like that time before when he-

"Oh, Merde!" _(Shit!) _Francis cursed, pulling away from the embrace and almost dropping Arthur in the process, succeeding in ruining the moment completely.

"What? What?" The Englishman asked alarmed, seeing his husband frantically hobble over to his coat in order to search the pockets. He cursed under his breath the entire time.

"I think I left your pictures in my car..." He answered, sighing in defeat and he really wanted to look at them too! How could he have forgotten them?

"Pictures?" Arthur questioned, slightly confused before a blush bloomed on his face as realization hit him. "Bloody hell! Wait, they're in your car? The car Alfred is currently driving?"

"Oui." Francis admitted hesitantly.

"I swear to God I will succeed in killing you one of these days."

"How you wound me, Arthur! They are only pictures, and quite flattering ones if I do say so myself." Francis raised his eyebrows suggestively for added effect. "Anyway, they are in my glove compartment so I doubt they will find them."

* * *

Ivan's eyebrows raised in surprise as he looked though the pictures he had just found.

"What are you doing in Papa's glove compartment?" Alfred said, not taking his eyes off the road. Really, they're were probably some gross Papa things in there. Like lube, or condoms.

"If your father does these things, does that mean you will do them with me when we are this intimate?" Ivan questioned, flipping though the pictures with interest. They were only of Arthur, in sexual poses and wearing revealing clothing.

"Do what?" Alfred asked, pulling up into one of the parking lots in the city. Finally they were here and could get this whole ordeal over with.

"This." Ivan said simply, showing his date the naughty pictures of his British father in different outfits, most of them comprised of leather.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT GET THOSE THINGS AWAY FROM ME!" Alfred shrieked, pushing at his door to _get away_. He succeeded in opening it, but forgot about his seat belt which kept him secured to the vehicle. He was in a tangled mess until he pressed the seat belt button and was released. He stumbled out of the car and on to his ass. Fuck, that hurt. It didn't help that Ivan was giggling at him.

"Why the hell would you show me those? Put them away!" He screamed and Ivan complied, placing them back in the glove compartment.

"I apologize, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable." The Russian said easily, stepping out of the car gracefully and going over to where Alfred was still on the ground.

"Didn't mean to make me uncomfortable? What kind of shit eating lie is that? How would that not make me uncomfortable!"

Ivan giggled and shrugged, offering his hand to the American. Alfred at first wanted to refuse it, he could get up by himself thank-you-very-much. But then he remembered he said he would give this a chance and decided to accept it. He was hauled to his feet beside the taller student who smiled at him creepily, like usual.

"Now what?" Alfred asked, looking around at the bustling city before them.

"Now we go on our date." Ivan replied happily, taking the others hand and dragging him to the sidewalk.

Ah, fuck. This was going to be a very long day.

* * *

Filler chapter is a filler  
I hope this one wasn't too boring.  
Its just, I'm so excited for next chapter and the chapter after that and the chapter after that! Exciting stuffs going to happen X)  
God, this is such a long story. I hope it isn't too slow for you guys.

Anyway, next chapter will be their date and some fun PruCan times sprinkled in between. Feel free to review more ideas for their date if you want, though I'm pretty sure whats basically going to happen.  
Also, last chapter was the most review chapter of this story! With 31 reviews! Sorry, I felt I should state that.  
It beat Chapter 16 which has 30 reviews, thats the one where you were all freaking about Francis and whether he was going to live or die :3  
Third is Chapter 10 with 28, thats the dinner scene, which is my favorite lol.

Review my darlings, Review! For those reviews keep me on schedule! I love you all!


	25. Chapter 24

Alfred cringe inwardly. Well, it was happening. He was not just going to go on a date with Ivan. He was _on_ the date with Ivan. How could he have let this happen? He had no fucking idea what he was suppose to do! Crap...

"Alfred? Are you coming?" Ivan questioned with a raised brow from where he stood on the side walk. For some reason, Alfred knew Ivan wouldn't let him back down now.

"Yeah, yeah" He sighed, walking toward his _date_ (gross) and standing beside him. They stood there awkwardly as other people, ignorant of them, passed by without a care in the world. Alfred wished he were like then instead of his emotionally freaked out self.

"Where would you like to go first?" Ivan asked and Alfred swallowed nervously. Shit, he had no idea and he had told him he would figure it out! He was such a fail. Maybe he could make some shit up?

"Uh..." Brilliant. Pure eloquence flowing from his lips. How come he could make up lies in seconds with teachers, even if his Dad but with Ivan it was almost impossible. Stupid commie. "I don't know." _Go on, Ivan, make fun and call me an idiot. See if I care. _He goaded in his mind.

"That is fine. We can walk around until we see something." The Russian shrugged, turning away to start walking down the side walk. Alfred blinked a few times, shocked at not being scolded or anything. Hadn't he disappointed him? Ivan didn't care though, why? Why did the Russian even want to date him? Sure, he was awesome and good looking but, at least according to everyone he knew, he was also extremely annoying, loud mouthed and irresponsible.

Ivan didn't seem to care though.

"Alfred." Ivan called, already a little ways away. The American blushed lightly before quickly making his way through the passers by and toward Ivan. Ok, no more deep thoughts. Just enjoy yourself and have fun. He hoped he could stick to that rule. Just ignore that your having fun with the commie.

Ivan smiled at him as he reached his side, extending his hand towards the others.

"I am not holding you hand." Way to embarrassing. Even if they were on a date.

"I only wish for you not to get lost. We keep getting separated, I hope to correct the problem." Ivan supplied the carefully constructed excuse, grinning brighter as the American took his hand reluctantly. Alfred was getting so much easier to coax, they have progressed quite nicely since their first meeting. Hopefully things would continue in a similar fashion. Alfred only took the hand because Ivan had a point, not because he wanted to or anything.

* * *

"You're brother really sucks at this date thing." Gilbert commented as they watched the pair from a distance. "And he claims to be awesomer than me, hah!"

"Gil! He's confused about all this so just let him be. At least they're not fighting." Matthew defended, seeing the couple turn the corner and out of their sight. Frankly, this was going much better than what he had expected. They were even holding hands! He had thought his twin would through a tantrum at even the thought of holding hands with the Russian.

"Uh huh, sure. They're getting away, we better hurry toward them before we lose 'em completely." The albino notified, tugging the others arm. Matthew nodded, following his boyfriend through the streets as they watched the awkward pair. He wondered what Ivan had planned for his brother.. He couldn't help but get a little nervous at the thought.

* * *

Alfred looked around as they walked, searching for something fun to do. He also wanted to keep his mind off the fact the he was holding the Russian's hand. He definitely wanted to repress the idea growing in his mind that he _liked_ the feeling of warmth that encompassed his hand by the action.

He spotted something across the street, "Oh, hey what if we go to that arcade? That could-" The feeling was gone and he blinked at its absence. Where'd he go? He was right beside him a second ago. He turned around, scanning the area for his date. He was a giant, it shouldn't be that hard. Ah hah, he spotted him a little ways ahead. Alfred ran toward him, ready to give him some lip about abandoning him or whatever when he stopped short.

Ivan had found the ice rink in the town, the outdoor ice field open to the public for skating or hockey. The tall student gripped the railing tightly as he watched the other skaters intensely. But, he wasn't watching them, he was looking through them at something else. Something that wasn't really there. It made Alfred hesitant about interrupting his thoughts.

"Ivan?" Alfred questioned, touching the other person's arm. Violet eyes turned to him quickly as he tilted his head. "Do you want to skate?" The American asked. Sure, he himself was a crap skater, especially compared to his twin but he could stay on his feet for a while.

Ivan seemed to hesitate, "We do not have to..." He murmured, his gaze returning to the field even as he protested. Alfred rolled his eyes, grabbing the others arm in order to drag him toward the entrance. He was such a bad liar.

"Come on, it'll be fun." He encouraged, even as Ivan looked unsure about the whole thing. "Or do you not know how to skate?" Maybe he had always wanted to learn or something? That could explain the look he had given the skating rink...

"Da, I used to skate when I was little... With my sister. She taught me how..." His voice softened at the memory as he recalled it to his mind. When had that been? He had learned when he was very young...maybe five, the last time must have been when he was nine. Because after that they were at the orphanage and there was no time to do something so fanciful as ice skate.

"Then you should be fine! Its like riding a bicycle, you never forget." Alfred assured, entering the building attached to the rink.

* * *

"They're going to go ice skating?" Gilbert questioned, watching the pair enter the rink. He hadn't expected that. He had been waiting for them to attack each other but they had remained surprisingly civil.

"I guess so." Matthew mumbled, frowning slightly. Alfred wasn't the best skater, he ended up on his ass most of the time because he insisted on going faster even when he was at a beginners level. Really, his brother had no sense of self-preservation what so ever.

"Hmm... We should go skate too, Matt." The albino declared with a maniacal grin. He grabbed his dear boyfriends arm and almost wrenched him toward the rink.

"They'll see us!" The younger twin protested as he pulled at his arm to no avail. Why had he brought Gilbert along again? Oh yeah, it had been his idea...

"But you love skating! Plus, if they do see us we can say that we were planning to go here since forever." The albino whined with a small pout.

"I don't know..." The younger stated apprehensively.

"Matt! You're the awesomest skater ever, you should totally show off more. And I can be like 'yeah, I tapped that' and people will be jealous of my awesomeness as well."

Matthew blushed and glared at the Prussian. "Gil! You have not 'tapped' me and you never will if you say such embarrassing things like that!" He snapped, digging his heels into the concrete in order to stop from moving. Sure, he and Gilbert had sucked each other off and stuff but they hadn't had sex yet. Yet. Dreaming about it didn't count.

"Come on Matt! Just skate with me. Please?" The Prussian turned around to show his big sad red eyes and finally Matthew sighed in defeat.

"... Fine."

* * *

Ivan was such a fucking liar. He probably practiced skating day and night to get this fucking good. What an asshole, tricking him onto the ice with his fake hesitancy. Now he looked like and idiot as he flailed about on the ice.

Ivan, himself, was surprised that he still knew how to skate after such a long length of time without practice. It felt nice to be able to do so again and he felt Katyusha would be proud to see him remember her lessons so well.

"So, you're sister taught you?" Alfred asked, glaring at Ivan's skates as they glided about the ice. The American, himself, remained close to the edge. He just needed to get his footing and then he would be way better than the Russian. Yeah.

"Da, she used to take me out of the house when I was young and teach me." Ivan answered, remembering the few happy moments of his childhood. Of course, the reason to leave the house was that their parents were fighting... Still, he enjoyed greatly the times his sister patiently showed him how to move his legs steadily on precarious ice. She would always laugh and smile at him as he slowly learned.

"Who taught her?" Alfred continued, because she was obviously amazing if Ivan remembered her lessons so well.

"Mother did when she herself was young." Ivan stated easily, turning around toward where the American stood. He didn't seem to be getting his skating legs if the hand hovering shakily over the rail had anything to say.

"How come your mom didn't teach you?" Alfred asked curiously. Ivan seemed relaxed and calm, maybe he could get some information out of him.

"Mother was pregnant with Natalia at the time... And then she died..." Ivan murmured, his movements getting slightly sharper at the memory. He wished he could of known her better but he was only five when she died. Katyusha always said she was very kind and loving... Patient and sweet, and she looked remarkably like her eldest daughter. A fact he learned from his fathers increasingly frightening behavior toward his sister while intoxicated. He swallowed up his anger quickly, pushing away his darkening thoughts.

"Oh... Is that when you were put into the orphanage?" Alfred probed. He knew he being nosy but he was really curious. From what he could tell, Ivan had known his biological parents well before being put up for adoption...

"Nyet, he was still alive." Ivan practically spat, he dug his skates into the ice almost violently as he made a sharp term. Calm down. Don't think about him. He is dead. He shouldn't be able to torment you any longer.

"Who?" Alfred couldn't help but ask the obvious.

"Father." Ivan hissed, stopping his movements in front of the American. "Will you skate or not?" He demanded more than asked, holding out his hand. He seemed tense now and Alfred gulped before accepting the hand. He was pulled farther into the rink, away from the safety of the wall. At least Ivan was going slow...for now.

"Why do you hate him so much?" He asked, ignoring how much his mind urged him to keep his mouth shut. Couldn't he ever listen to the warning, 'curiosity killed the cat'? Still, their previous conversation about Ivan's father back when Papa was in the hospital had made him even more intrigued.

"Many reasons." Ivan answered vaguely, his movements quickening slightly. Why were they still speaking of him?

"Like?" Alfred urged but received only deadly silence. Fine then, he'd approach it differently.

"Were you happy when he died?" He seemed to be, the thought seemed so horrible and cruel to the American. How could someone hate their own father, truly hate him. He and his Dad fought a lot but he still loved him. Ivan remained quiet and Alfred thought he wouldn't answer at all.

"I am happy he is dead, not how he died." Ivan murmured, his hand holding the blond tighter, almost bruising him. He skated faster, dragging the blue eyed teen with him

"How did he die?" Alfred asked and felt the pressure on his hand stop suddenly. He reeled back as the hand keeping him balanced disappeared and he flailed in the middle of the rink. "Shit." He cursed, realizing he was going to fall on his ass. That was going to hurt.

But he didn't, because Ivan had realized and grabbed his arm the last second. Alfred breathed a sigh of relief but didn't thank the other. It was his fault in the first place. He also didn't repeat the question, less he not be caught the next time. Obviously it was a painful memory. Maybe he died of cancer?

"How old were you when you were put in the orphanage?" He asked, trying to open Ivan up again. Hopefully he would still disclose some information. He really did want to know more about him.

"Nine." They were moving again, toward the edge of the rink much to Alfred's relief.

"That;s old... You were their for six years?" He questioned incredulously after doing the math in his head. Six years was a long time.

"Da." It seemed much, much longer than that. Almost an eternity, especially after Katyusha left. Rather, was forced to leave.

Alfred grimaced at the thought of being stuck at his own orphanage for that long. He would of gone insane!

He was going to pose another question when his stomach growled loudly. Ivan giggled as he blushed lightly at the noise. His tense, cold aura leaving him as he watched Alfred reddening face with amusement.

"Shut up, I'm hungry okay?" Alfred snapped, pulling away from the other and making his way ungracefully to the edge.

"Da, let us go get something to eat." Ivan smiled, leading the way to the exit.

* * *

He did love to skate. Matthew almost forgot about their 'mission' entirely when his feet touched the ice. He spun around, skating smoothly and gracefully along the ice. Anyone could tell the socially awkward teen was in his element in the rink. His partner didn't compare but was still skilled in the sport, weaving about with relative ease.

"Matt, you're so sexy when you skate." Gilbert commented, as he pulled the other closer to him. Matthew blushed at his boyfriends statement, not able to believe it for a second. He was awkward, not sexy. He was tall like his brother but lanky where he was more muscled. He didn't think he was very handsome...let alone sexy. Now, the albino on the other hand, he was sexy.

"Shut up, you're such a liar Gilbert." He brushed off, trying to pull free from the others embrace. Plus, other people were looking at them and they weren't in their nice gay friendly neighborhood. He didn't want any trouble, he had way too much experience in that.

"I'm not lying." The albino stated seriously, pulling him closer. "You're so confident on the ice, so sure of yourself. You move around with such ease and anyone could get lost while watching you. Half of me wants to kill anyone who looks at you when you skate while the other half wants to show you off. To tell them that beautiful man is all mine, you should of taken him when you had the chance instead of just ignoring him."

Matthew stared at him, face bright red as he took in the others words. Gilbert's tone and lack of the word 'awesome' made them seem truthful and real. He looked into his red eyes, feeling his heart flutter slightly in a cliché kind of way. He smiled at the Prussian, leaning forward to give him a warm kiss. The moment just sort of begged for one. His boyfriend could be so sweet sometimes.

Gilbert responded eagerly, making the kiss deeper because Matt's lips were absolutely addicting. Matthew pulled away, much to the albino's disappointment, but remained in his embrace.

"I love you, Gilbert." The teen stated warmly, looking up into the surprised red eyes. And it was true, he had known that for a very long time. Long before they had even started dating. Gilbert gave him a crooked smile.

"I love y-Shit!" Gilbert cursed, almost dropping his boyfriend as he let go of him. Luckily, the others skill prevented him from falling painfully on his ass. Gilbert growled as he wiped the snow from his face, looking around for the culprit who threw a fucking snowball at him! The punk was going to get it for ruining his awesome confession.

He found a couple of teenagers he didn't recognize, probably from another school. They were laughing at him and one was showing him his middle finger. Those little fuckers! How dare they ruin the moment?

"Gil." Matthew spoke softly, touching his shoulder so that his attention turned back to him. "Ignore them, don't give them the pleasure of seeing you angry."

"But Matt! They did it because we're two guys! I know it because there are other straight couples doing the same thing without being interrupted!" He exclaimed heatedly. He was going to rip their homophobic faces off.

"I know." Matthew continued sadly. Gilbert frowned, why wasn't he all angry? Why didn't Matt want to defend their right to make out in public? "Then lets beat them up, we can totally take them!"

"Gilbert, it's not worth it. Trust me, I know. It'll just make it worse." He was pleading with him now, the hand on his shoulder squeezing it tightly.

"... Fine." Gilbert finally sighed, sending the teenagers a harsh glare before ignoring their existence. Matthew gave him a soft smile. Wait, how did Matt know all about this? We're people bullying him because they were in a relationship? They better not be! Oh, he was going to get to the bottom of this after their mission.

Wait, he looked around the rink, spotting the pair they were meant to be stalking leaving the area, already on the sidewalk and heading away. "Shit, you're brother is getting away."

"Let him." Matthew replied easily, his gaze not leaving the pale face of the Prussian.

"Huh? I thought you were worried about him?" Gilbert tilted his head in confusion. Wasn't following them the whole point they were here?

"I can see that he'll be fine. Plus, I'd much rather spend my day on a date with you then watching my brother have one." His hand drifted down from the others shoulder until it captured his hand.

"Awesome." Gilbert exclaimed happily, now he could focus entirely on Matt for the day.

* * *

"Where would you like to eat, Alfred?" Ivan asked as they walked down the streets, keeping an eye out for any sort of eatery.

Alfred _knew_ where he would like to dine but was unsure if Ivan would like it. Plus, McDonald's wasn't really a place to take your date to... Oh but he could really use a cheeseburger right about now...

He hadn't been able to eat there in so long. His papa always hated it when they ate fast food in front of him. He felt it was the murdering of the culinary arts. But now, he refused to have them eat it or even bring it into the house because he could positively say that fast food had almost killed him. Alfred would argue it was the storm that had lead the driver of the McDonald's truck to lose control but Papa wouldn't let him finish. Even Dad didn't want him to eat McDonald's, and before he had even eaten the food with him. After the accident, he could only glare whenever he saw one of their establishments.

Now, he was dying for just a taste of their (in his mind) heavenly food.

"Well Alfred?" Ivan reiterated, glancing down at his date who seems hesitant and perhaps a little embarrassed. He wondered why, though he couldn't complain because the look is quite adorable on the blond's face.

...Fuck it, he wants some Mickey Ds and he's going to fucking get some, "Lets go to McDonald's, unless you don't like their food." Which would be blasphemy and perfect grounds to end this weird date. This weird date that was going much better than he had expected...

"I do not know, I have never eaten there." Ivan shrugged nonchalantly, looking around for the Golden Arches he'd seen numerous times in his stay in the states. He paused when he felt a dead weight holding him back. He turned his head confused to see his date with a look that can only be explained as shocked and appalled. He giggled at it, finding it quite humorous.

"You've never eaten at McDonald's? What kind of childhood could you have had without a taste of it on your tongue? That has to be some form of abuse! Holy shit we need to fix this right now." He added with conviction, taking the lead to search for his favorite eating establishment. He could find one easily, his body seemed to have a special homing device when it came to fast food places.

Ivan noticeably stopped giggling when the other alluded to his childhood and fell silent. He let himself be dragged by the other as his thoughts travel elsewhere. He hoped his sisters were well... He knew Alfred was getting increasingly interested in his past, and he knew that for this sort of relationship to progress into a more intimate one he would need to tell him more about it. Still, it was uncomfortable and he didn't know how Alfred would react to the knowledge that he was a murderer. He didn't want to risk the others growing affection towards him. He was the only person who seemed to care about him, if he hated him after his confession who else was left for the Russian? Would any one extend a hand to him?

Ivan knew in his heart that no one would spare him a glance.

"Ah hah! Here we are." Alfred grinned, pulling the pale haired teen into the small fast food restaurant. The place had few customers inside at the moment, most of them in the line for the drive through. "So, what would you like to eat?" Alfred asked excitedly, he would convert the commie to the epicness that was McDonald's with this visit.

"I do not care, I am not very hungry." Ivan brushed off, looking around the place. He was not impressed, it seemed very uncleanly.

"Fine, don't worry. Everything here tastes amazing." Alfred assured, stepping over to the cashier so he could place their order. Ivan didn't really care, he wasn't very picky at all. You ate what you were given or you wouldn't eat at all, at least, that is what he had been taught at the orphanage.

Alfred quickly returned to where Ivan was seated, the Russian seemed to be looking at the sticky table with distaste. Whatever, he'd ignore it once he bit into his cheeseburger. He didn't really know what the Russian liked, if he preferred chicken to beef, salad to burgers. Frankly, he barely knew anything about his supposed date.

Once he sat down he began to eat ravenously at his two Big Macs. Oh god how he had missed this, so delicious. How could Papa be disgusted by this? It was pure heavenly bliss to be able to bite into one after such a long break without it!

"That is the most unappealing sight I have ever seen." Ivan stated with a grimace, watching the American gorge himself on his meal. He even missed his mouth half the time. Fortunately, he blushed slightly at the comment and began to eat in a more civilized manner. Good, he didn't think he'd be able to continue watching such a horrid spectacle.

"Well? Aren't you going to eat?" Alfred asked, swallowing his food first as he thought of what his Dad or Mattie might say if they saw him talk with his mouth full. He wanted to know if the Russian liked the food here or not. Ivan sighed and picked up his food, thankfully much smaller than Alfred's huge portions, and took a bite. "Well?"

"It is ok. I expected it to taste much worse than how it does." The taller student answered after swallowing his first bite. He could actually stomach it though he didn't really look forward to eating here again.

Alfred pouted childishly because Ivan was trashing his favorite foods, he'd thought at least he would be with him on this one. Oh well...

"So... How come you've never eaten at McDonald's before?" He ventured, starting his second burger while eating some of his fries. Because he couldn't even imagine a world without this blessed establishment.

"There were none where I lived and at the orphanage we ate what they gave us." Ivan answered distantly, was he going to be interrogated again? This wasn't very enjoyable.

"That's so weird... So what did you eat when you were little?" It seemed only right to learn more about him, like what his favorite foods were. What did he liked to do for fun. Was he a football or hockey fan. And etc...

"Must we talk about this?" Ivan squirmed slightly in his seat, playing with his scarf uncomfortably. Couldn't they just ignore his past and focus on the present? He'd much rather do that.

"But I want to know! I don't know much about you when you were kid and you know a lot about me. Why can't you tell me?" Alfred insisted, why wouldn't Ivan tell him? It shouldn't be such a big deal. He told him about how he got adopted without protest! He got to hear Papa's first date story. Yet, he couldn't hear more than a few words about the commie's past! Ivan remained annoyingly silent, eating his food quietly.

"What was your orphanage like? Was it Catholic like mine?" Alfred asked, undeterred. He was going to find out more if it killed him.

"Nyet."

"Did you like it there?"

"Nyet."

"Why?" Maybe he could get more than a one word answer.

"It is not important."

Alfred groaned, giving the other an annoyed glare. He was making this way more difficult than it had to be. "You know, if this is ever going to work you're going to have to tell me."

"...I know." Ivan sighed, finishing his food and taking a sip of the water Alfred had gotten him. Alfred hadn't expected the confession, he'd thought the other would denounce the idea quickly. "I will tell you, but not now, not here." He finally acquiesced.

"Fine, but you better." Alfred accepted, giving the other a warning glare. He wasn't going to let this go any time soon.

* * *

Gilbert continued to kiss his boyfriend heatedly, pressing him into the soft grass around them. After skating a little while longer, they had continued to walk through the city before turning into one of the parks. Soon, they had found a secluded area and started by kissing each other chastely.

Of course, that had developed rather quickly into their current situation. The one with Matthew lying in the grass, Gilbert hovering over him. They were both breathing heavily, faint blushes dusting their cheeks from their long passionate kisses.

"Gil." Matthew murmured, tugging at the pale snowy hair so the other turned to him. Gilbert looked up into the dark violet blue eyes, pulling away from the others oh-so-kissable neck.

"Hmm?" It almost sounded like a moan as he drew out the sound from his throat, Matthew shivered as it ghosted his cheek.

"I love you." Matthew whispered, his breath a few centimeters from the others lips. Gilbert shuddered slightly, his grin growing as he blushed from the twin's words.

"I love you too." He repeated, uninterrupted this time. He leaned forward and captured the others lips in a much too brief kiss because Matthew quickly pulled away.

"L-let's do it." He stated, voice wavering slightly and cheeks dark from embarrassment. Gilbert tilted his head to the side for a moment before he realized the implications of what he said, causing his red eyes to widen.

"Oh. You mean. Uh...That." Gilbert spoke hurriedly, his words tripping over themselves as he was caught off guard by the request. Matthew giggled at the reaction, smoothing some of the white unruly hair lovingly.

"I'm ready Gilbert. I know I am, are you?" He asked softly, and the albino nodded vigorously.

"I've been ready since I met you! Ok wait no we were like seven...Uh that sounds wrong, I mean—Well, you know what I mean, right?" He was floundering and it was so not awesome. Shit, he needed to be suave and charming and awesome!

Matthew chuckled, remembering how the other had similarly floundered when first asking him out. Gilbert could be so cute sometimes... "I know what you mean." He assured, leaning forward to kiss him reassuringly.

"Y-yeah. Wait do you want to do it now? Like right here? Because I don't have any lube with me and-" Matthew silenced his babbling with another kiss, pulling back with an amused smile.

"No, not here. Lets go to your house, no one's home right?" Matthew said calmly because his boyfriend surely wasn't.

"Yeah, West and Feli are out." Gilbert responded, staring into those violet pools. They were going to have sex. Tonight. This was so awesome! He couldn't wait to show Matt how much he loved him and how awesome of a lover he could be.

"Are you going to get off me?" Matthew asked amused, laughing as the Prussian quickly jumped off of him. He got up and took the others hand and lead him out of the park.

"You're hands shaking Gil." Matthew notified with a raised eyebrow.

"It's 'cause I'm excited."

"About finally having sex?"

"No, about makin' love" Gilbert gave him smirk that looked way too much like Papa's and caused him to blush profusely. It turned into a grin at the sight and their footsteps hurried toward their car. All thoughts of Alfred escaped the twin's mind, Gilbert always did have that sort of effect on him...

* * *

It was getting late now as they walked the streets, Alfred wasn't even bothered that they were holding hands again. It was much easier to become separated now because it had gotten very dark, it had nothing to do with the possibility of ghosts or zombies coming to take him away. Nope. Not at all.

"Would you like to see a movie?" Ivan asked, spotting a movie theater across the street. That was what Matvey and the annoying one had done, perhaps it would work for them too.

"Sure, not much else to do at night." Alfred agreed, crossing the street to look at the listings.

"What would you like to see? I do not mind. It is your choice." Ivan had never really been a movie person, he preferred literature to the big screen.

"Ok, hmm... Oh! I've been wanting to see _The Haunting of the Damned_! Lets watch that!" He knew it was a horror film bu he was a hero. He could take it. He'd be fine. Completely fine.

Ivan nodded absently, going over to the ticket booth to purchase the tickets while Alfred purchased snacks. How could he be hungry again, already? Oh well, as long as he was enjoying himself.

Ivan blinked at the tub of popcorn Alfred returned with, along with an extra large soda that had two straws. "I got a deal, but we have to share the soda. That cool, right?" Alfred questioned, not really caring. He did it with his brother whenever they went to see movies... Sure it was Ivan this time but the idea of sharing a drink wasn't as revolting as he thought it would have been. He wasn't going to dwell on it, he was just going to enjoy his movie.

"Da, that is fine." What progress! Wasn't sharing a milkshake or drink a form of intimacy in America? And Alfred had started it without his encouragement!

They ventured toward the room housing their movie, sitting near the back. Alfred munched on his popcorn excitedly as the previews showed, commenting on which ones he was going to see (read: all of them). Ivan just nodded, half paying attention to what the other was babbling about. He hoped this movie would be some what entertaining but he didn't have much faith in it.

What proved to be most entertaining, as the movie started, was Alfred. He was actually scared of the obviously fake looking blood and ghosts. At first he only trembled and screamed with the rest of the viewers. Then he would cover his eyes but peak out anyway, unable to stop watching as one of the sluttier girls was killed (which Ivan had predicted right at the beginning).

It became so entertaining that he stopped watching the movie entirely to focus solely on Alfred. The American was almost crying out in fear. How adorable. So Alfred was afraid of such movies but not of himself? He was some what offended, but he didn't mind it much. Especially when the ghosts attacked once more and Alfred flew into his lap.

It was a wonderful turn of events to find him hugging him tightly, burrowing his face into his chest. At first, Ivan had tensed, not expecting the action but soon relaxed. He slowly wrapped his arms around the other so he wouldn't startle him.

"T-tell me what's ha-happening." Alfred ordered weakly, unable to turn around and see for himself but still needing to know how the film ended.

"The brown haired woman-" Ivan started to explain before being rudely interrupted.

"Michelle?"

"Da. She was just decapitated." Alfred whimpered, trying to peer around in order to see at least a glimpse of the screen.

"What's Jim going to do?"

"He is waving a Bible around." Ivan said, really this movie was quite ridiculous. "No wait. Now he's dead too." They should all be dead soon, the movie should be ending by now.

Alfred whimpered again burrowing his face near the others neck. Even when he wasn't watching the screen he screamed with the audience. It was very fascinating to Ivan how the movie had affected him so much. He'd have to do this more often...

"I hate ghosts, I hate them. I hate them." Alfred chanted, his eyes screwed shut but ears still straining to hear the film.

An idea formed in the Russian's mind and he smirked mischievously. "I can make the ghosts go away."

"How?" Alfred asked, intrigued, his eyes shifting toward the violet ones of his date. He only now realized how close they were. He didn't get his answer. Instead Ivan kissed him, holding his face in place to keep him from pulling away.

Alfred stiffened, eyes shooting open as his heart beat wildly in his chest. Another scream erupted from the crowd and he gasped in surprising, allowing Ivan entrance into his mouth. The taller student kissed him slowly, soothingly until Alfred's eyes closed and he finally kissed back. The movie slipped to the back of his mind as he focused on the warm kiss that made his heart flutter abnormally. He didn't know why it had such an effect on him. As his mind tried to argue with him about the fact he was kissing the commie he ignored it because fuck it felt good.

When they parted for breath, Alfred realized what they had just been doing and his brain finally won, making him quickly scurry off the others lap. His face was bright red as he turned his attention back to the movie, only to see the credits rolling.

"Fuck. I missed the ending!" He snapped angrily, his lips still tingling as he tried to repress what they had just been doing. Why couldn't he listen to his head for once?

"They all died and the house remained haunted." Ivan filled in easily, smiling happily. Alfred had kissed back, things were going wonderfully. Perhaps they could do it again?

"Well time to go!" Alfred said quickly, running out of the room before Ivan could bring up the kiss. They had already kissed before, why was he still freaking out about it? Plus, they _were_ on a date. Didn't he expect to get a kiss? But it was Ivan! Ugg... Still, the kiss was pretty awesome...

No. No it wasn't. It was a kiss with the commie, it couldn't possibly be enjoyable! Or at least, that's what he insisted in his head. Ivan approached him in the theater lobby with a confused expression and he felt a little guilty for just running out of the room like that. Hadn't Mattie said he needed to think about Ivan's feelings more?

"Is everything all right, Alfred?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. Sorry, uh... I think its time to head home... It is pretty late." Alfred quickly said, ignoring how Ivan looked slightly disappointed.

"Da." Ivan said simply, leading the way into the night. Had he done something wrong? Perhaps this kiss had gone to far? At least Alfred wasn't yelling at him or even ignoring him. In fact he continued to walk beside. He enjoyed how Alfred stayed closer to him, holding his hand tightly. He must still be afraid from the movie.

* * *

"Are you sure?" Gilbert asked nervously, playing with the bottle of lube in his hands.

"Yes, Gilbert." Matthew repeated.

"Absolutely positive?"

"For the hundredth time yes. Are you going to prepare or am I going to have to do it my self." Matthew said exasperatedly. He was getting impatient and he needed some attention _down there._

"I just don't want to hurt you and have you regret it." Gilbert mumbled awkwardly, a light blush appearing on his pale face.

Matthew's eyes softened and he smiled at his sweet boyfriend. "I'm absolutely positive and I could never regret this." He assured, leaning forward to capture the others lips. Gilbert finally seemed to relax.

* * *

Alfred entered his house at around 10 pm after dropping Ivan home at Toris'. His legs were starting to hurt from all the walking/skating and he really wanted to go to sleep. This whole Ivan thing was pretty taxing. He was not expecting his father to greet him with an angry glare before he could take two steps into his home.

"Hey Dad." Alfred greeted, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the hook. Arthur's hair was disheveled, his shirt buttoned incorrectly and on backwards, and his pants were messy. His feet were bare, even though he insisted on wearing socks in the house when his shoes weren't on. Alfred grimaced at the realizations of the _activities_ his parents had been partaking in during his absence. Hopefully it was in their bedroom, not on the table like the last time he'd caught them. They ate there for crying out loud!

"Don't 'hey Dad' me, Alfred. Who gave you permission to date, let alone Ivan?" He snapped, his worry for his sons safety forming into anger. The frog was asleep which meant he couldn't stop him from yelling out what he felt was right. Alfred was still too young to be tangle up with that teen.

"I gave myself permission. I'm sixteen" Alfred answered with a frown. What was his problem? And what did he mean 'let alone Ivan'? He wasn't in the mood for one of his Dad's rants about him.

"Sixteen doesn't make you an adult." Arthur reminded, patience wearing thin at his son's attitude.

"I'm more of an adult than a child." Alfred said back, getting aggravated at the sudden interrogation when he was this tired. He could date whoever he wanted. His Dad had no right to tell him otherwise.

"No, you still act like an irresponsible child and therefore you'll be treated as one."

"I'm not an irresponsible child! I can date whoever I want and if I want to date Ivan then I'll date Ivan." The American practically snarled, stamping his foot on the ground for good measure.

"Don't you use that tone with me. I am your father and if I forbid you from seeing him then you will listen to me!" Was Alfred actually throwing a tantrum? And he claimed to be an adult!

"I don't care if you 'forbid' I'm still going to see him!" He wasn't even sure if he was going to keep dating Ivan but now he definitely had to for a little while longer in order to spite his stupid father.

"I will not have you around such a dangerous individual."

"He isn't dangerous! He's just misunderstood! I'm going to date him and you can't stop me." He snapped, pushing his way through his father but was unsuccessful as the British man grasped at his arm.

"And how do you know that Alfred? You are practically incapable of reading people's true motives!" Arthur growled. Things always ended with them yelling didn't it?

"I'm not a dumb ass! No matter how stupid you think I am, I can take care of myself. I'm dating Ivan and that final!" He shouted back, pulling his arm free violently and storming up the stairs.

"Alfred! Alfred come down right now!" He had never said he was stupid. Why couldn't he ever actually listen to him?

Alfred ignored him and slammed his bedroom door shut, and throwing himself onto his bed. Why did Dad have to be so controlling? He was sixteen! He should have the freedom to date whoever he wanted! In fact, he would make sure of it.

He fished out his cell phone, pressing the missed calls button to find Ivan's number. He called it and waited impatiently for it to answer.

"Alfred?" Ivan asked his voice showing his slight confusion. Why was the American calling him so soon? He had thought the date had ended sourly...

"Hey, Ivan. I'm just calling to see if you want to go out again sometime? Cool thanks, talk to you later. Bye." He said quickly before hanging up the phone. There, that'll show Dad. He couldn't control his relationships, no matter how much he tried.

Ivan blinked, closing the phone as the dial tone sounded. Alfred had asked to go on another date... That meant he had enjoyed this date. Ivan smirked at nothing, things were progressing very nicely indeed.

* * *

Gah! So very long. I think the longest chapter I've written so far. I hope its good cause A LOT of stuff happens.  
Anyway, next chapter Mattie comes home and things dont go so well... You'll see Mhuhahahahah  
Thanks so much for all the reviews guys! You are all epic!

That reminds me, I haven't been answering reviews because I'm inherently lazy and all that jazz. Plus, most of the questions I would answer with: "Be patient and all will be clear soon." or something vague like that. But I'll try to answer you guys from now on... Maybe... Idk... -.- Fail.

Thanks for pointing out my Russia slip up! I'll go fix that because its pretty embarrassing, at least it took me 24 chapters!

One last thing, Starlenia did more fan art because she's just awesome. Ivan and Alfred kiss in one, so you should check them out! :3

Alright, I think that's about it. See you Sunday!


	26. Chapter 25

Matthew stirred slightly, his eyes blinking open as light peaked through the blinds to shine upon them. He mumbled incoherently, turning over to shield himself from the invasive sunlight. He was so warm, so comfortable. He nuzzled into the naked chest before him, greedily moving closer to the heat that exuded from it.

Still, his eyes opened once more as his mind woke up slowly. He saw the pale chest before him, little red marks drawing attention to the collar bone and neck. He followed the trail up, his eyes drinking up the sight of the albino sleeping. His face peaceful, his mouth showing only the hint of a satisfied smirk. His hair was plastered to his face in some areas from their previous _activities_.

Matthew blushed as he recalled the events of the previous night, his mind vividly remembering every detail. Even as he blushed he couldn't help but smile as he let his mind relive the moment.

_Gilbert panting above him, his reddish face just inches away from his own. He wrapped his arms around him, pulling him even closer to kiss him heatedly. Gasping into them whenever the Prussian thrusted just so, hitting that spot within him that he'd heard so much about from Papa. He arched his back, moaning his name as he kissed him more passionately. Needfully. _

Matthew remembered how Gilbert had come, how he had squeezed his eyes shut, his hands supporting him trembling and his mouth falling open with the cry of his very name, Matthew. The sight was enough to make him orgasm as well, along with the fact that Gilbert was pumping him.

Gilbert really was handsome.

Matthew leaned up, the hands hugging him making the task more difficult. He placed a chaste kiss on the others lips, pulling away with a soft smile. He could stay in the albino's embrace for eternity, he felt so safe in his pale arms. Then he saw the clock.

10:50 am

Sh-Maple. (Matthew preferred not to curse so he tried his best to refrain from it, unlike his brother). He needed to get home. And he needed to get there right away. He tried to squirm from his boyfriends strong loving hold but it held firm. He needed to go now!

"Gil, Gil I have to go." He hissed, still not wanting to wake up his sleeping lover. He just looked so peaceful and happy, but he really did have to leave. Gilbert responded with a garbled groan and pulled him closer to his chest. Matthew huffed, pushing slightly more forcefully until red eyes finally opened.

"Matt...Why?" He groaned out, confused at his cute little boyfriend's behavior. Why was he leaving? It was so comfy. He didn't ever want to get up. He closed his sleepy eyes and nuzzled into his struggling _lover's_ (because they were now) neck.

"I have to go home. Papa and Dad will be up soon." He insisted, even if it was so tempting to just stay here. His parents were notoriously late risers during the weekend. Usually from their nightly activities... And now he was in the same position. How weird.

Gilbert pouted, making a noise of displeasure as he hugged his lover (Gott, he loved saying that) tighter before finally releasing him. Matthew hurried out of bed, picking up his clothes as quickly as possible and put them on. Gilbert watched lazily from his bed, stretched out like a cat and letting out purrs of approval whenever the younger bent over. Even if Matt didn't like it. He had such a nice ass, and it was his ass now too. If only Matt could stay just a little while longer...

Finally, Matthew was fully clothed and ready to leave. He messed with his hair, trying to return it to normalcy but mostly failed. It would have to do. Maybe he could fix it better as he drove... He went to leave the bedroom but decided against and returned to the bed to give his lazy lover a quick kiss. He resisted the urge to continue the kiss for an indefinite amount of time.

"I'll see you later." He promised and then left the room quietly. Gilbert sighed, sitting up slightly and glaring at the clock. If only he could have had another hour...

* * *

"Dad, why are we still talking about this?" Alfred groaned, slouching in his seat on the couch. Arthur sent him a glare from his place in the armchair.

"Don't disrespect me, boy. I'm your father." Arthur snapped, "You disrespected me last night by storming off to your room while I was speaking. We are not done talking about this." They were going to settle this, this instant! He refused to have his boy gallivanting with a dangerous individual.

"You can't stop me from seeing him." The teen stated defiantly, "I don't need your permission. I can act independently in the matters of who I want to have a relationship with."

"Alfred." Arthur said slowly in that warning tone of his, "You are testing my patience. I do not wish for you to get hurt, which, even if you are oblivious to it, is the only way this irrational relationship will end."

"I'm not stupid. Stop calling me stupid." Alfred shot back, feeling anger boil in him once more. He was always seen as the idiot wasn't he? At least Ivan thought he was smart.

"I am not calling you stupid. Do not put words into my mouth." Arthur responded, trying to keep calm. A feat he was failing miserably at.

"You're calling me dense." Alfred shot back, crossing his arms.

"I'm not arguing you about this. You will end this relationship with Ivan immediately." The Englishman raised his voice, his anger rising at his son's horrid behavior.

"No I won't."

Francis tuned them out as the argument seemed to run in circles. He sighed tiredly, flipping one of the crepes he was making over. He would step in once the food was ready. His husband was being unreasonable and Alfred should have his fun. Frankly, there was a more pressing issue on his mind that hadn't seemed to dawn on either of the two in the living room.

Matthew had yet to return home.

He didn't like the idea of his petit Matthieu, alone in the night, scared and afraid. It brought painful memories of that dreadful night, so long ago. At least back then he had Alfred with him... The Frenchman reminded himself that Gilbert was with his son and wouldn't harm him. It was extremely obvious that the albino adored his little boy, he would make sure no harm came his way.

Still, he was a little worried. And Arthur accused him of being the bad parent!

"It's times like these I wish I was a girl." Alfred hissed out, his fury mounting at the interrogation he was receiving. His father could be so annoying! Sometimes he wished he could just run away and never see his face again.

"And why is that?" Arthur humored him.

"'Cause then I could say I'm having his babies and you would totally freak out." He smirked as Arhtur's face grew red. In your face, Dad.

"Alfred! Did you have sex with him?" Arthur asked, his worry shielded by fury mounting. He hadn't even thought of the possibility! But what if they had, what if the violent Russian pressured him?

"Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't."

"Alfred, you answer me right this instance!" He ordered, his son was being an infernal brat!

Francis turned his head away as the door opened and his missing son stepped in hesitantly. Relief flooded him, he was ok. Nothing bad had happened, he was unharmed. He would have to tell him to call next time if he was going to be gone the entire night. Wait a minute...

Matthew pulled of his coat, hanging it in the closet by the front door. He smiled nervously at him, his movements hesitant and cautious. Why? Was that... Was that a slight limp?

Mon Dieu.

He shut the stove off and made his way toward his son. At first Matthew didn't see him, his eyes looking into the living room where his father and brother were arguing over something. Then a hand grabbing his arm and pulling him to the side made his gaze shift quickly.

Francis scrutinized him, his eyes taking in every single detail of his son's present state. His slightly messy hair, his rumpled clothing, the hickey (probably one of many) he was vainly trying to hide. The satisfaction and happiness exuding from his glowing skin even as he nervously shifted his gaze about the room. So, it was true.

"Papa?" He squeaked, fear creeping into him as blood rushed to his face. He knew. He _knew._

"Francis! Get over here and defend me already!" Arthur yelled from the family room. Matthew prayed it would distract his father long enough for him to make his escape. The Frenchman didn't budge, his blue eyes staring at violet ones that couldn't keep his gaze. "Frog!"

"Arthur. Alfred and Ivan had one date. They didn't have sex. Leave them alone." He responded, his eyes never wavering. Matthew tried to pull his hand free only to have the grip tighten. "Matthieu, did you have sex last night?" He asked slowly, eyes still taking in every single detail and reaction.

There was a scraping of furniture as Arthur rushed over to the scene, alerted from his husbands question. "What? Matthew! Matthew would never, he's an innocent little boy!" Matthew stared at the ground. It was over, they knew. They all knew.

Alfred felt a bit of anger at the comment. Oh, so his Dad would think he'd have sex but not Mattie? Wait, Mattie having sex? Ha! The American began to laugh at the thought, three pairs of eyes turning their attention toward him.

"How could Mattie have sex? He doesn't even have a boyfriend or girlfriend or whatever he's into." He said easily, coming over to defend his twin from their parents. How could they accuse him of that? It was so stupid, he didn't deserve their anger. Plus, he hated it when Mattie was made a victim of unjust treatment so he had to defend him. He was the hero after all.

Francis ignored both Anglophiles, his eyes locking on his son once more. "Answer me, Matthieu. Did you have sex with Gilbert?" He repeated his question, waiting patiently for the inevitable response.

Alfred laughed even harder, all eyes once again on him. Gilbert? Really Gilbert? That was the best Papa could come up with? "Papa, you seriously think Mattie and _Gilbert _did it? First off, Mattie would never just do it with anyone. He'd date the guy first!" He defended his twin, looking to him for confirmation.

He received none. Matthew remained silent, his gaze still on the wooden floor.

Doubt began to crawl into his stomach but he vehemently denied it. Mattie couldn't of just done it with Gilbert. There was no way. Absolutely no way.

"Alfred, Matthew and Gilbert have been dating for a while now." Arthur informed him with a serious tone. Francis nodded but Alfred didn't believe them. If Matthew had started dating, he would have been the first to know about it. They didn't have secrets. They were just that close. His parents had to be lying. They must of been misinformed. The whole idea was impossible!

"Thats not true. They're just friends, we all are! Right, Mattie?" Alfred turned to his brother who was _still_ staring at the floor.

"Mattie?"

"...I'm sorry, Alfred. I should of told you." Matthew whispered, feeling guilt pour into the pit of his stomach.

And Alfred's mind stopped working. What? What? Matthew and Gilbert were dating? Matthew and Gilbert had sex? Papa and Dad knew? He didn't? Matthew didn't tell him? Matthew had kept secrets? Matthew lied to him?

That fact branded itself into his mind, the heat of it slowly building up into rage.

Matthew, his twin, had lied to him.

"Alfred? Alfred, let me expla-" Matthew started, guilt rising in him at an increasing speed as he saw his brother fall silent and his hands shake. What had he done?

"I'm gonna fucking kill him." Alfred bit out, almost inaudibly. He said nothing more as he stormed out of the house, the door slammed shut and the car roaring to life. The minute Matthew heard the vehicle screech out of the driveway he began to thrash in his papa's grip.

"Let go! Please, he'll hurt him! I have to stop him!" He pleaded, knowing fully well what sort of damage Alfred could inflict when he was in one of these moods. His father's hold didn't loosen no matter how much he tried. Didn't he understand?

"Matthieu, do you love him?" Francis asked softly, feeling the other still. Violet blue eyes met blue for the first time that day, no hesitancy being betrayed in the oddly colored orbs.

"Yes Papa, I love Gilbert and that's why I need to stop Al from hurting him. Please, let me go I'll tell you everything later." He promised desperately.

"Then you have my blessing." Francis gave him a warm smile, releasing his grip and watching his son run out of the house and after his brother. He had grown up so fast, his little boy was a man.

"That doesn't mean I approve!" Arthur shouted after him, turning a harsh glare at his husband. "What the hell was that? Did you just give him your approval to shag Gilbert whenever he wants?" He cried out incredulously.

"Non, but I can see the amour in his eyes. They love each other dearly, Arthur." He said happily, taking his husbands hands in his. It was all so romantic!

"They're 16! They don't even know what love is!"

"But I do, and I see it in them." Francis assured with a soft smile.

"...You're drunk." Arthur accused, pulling at his hands to free them.

"Non, you are just in denial." Francis explained easily, leaning up to kiss him softly.

* * *

Alfred barely concentrated on driving, the car almost seemed to be moving on his own. Sharp angry turns punctuated by short halts at stoplights as he speeded toward the fucker's house. The fucker who took his twin's virginity. He was going to kill him.

He pulled into his target's driveway and jumped out of his car. He didn't even bother to turn it off, he left it running with the door wide opened as he stomped to the front door. He banged on it loudly, teeth gritted and eyes seeing red. He was going to fucking kill him.

After a few minutes, Gilbert opened the door lazily. He was dressed in his boxers and t-shirt he just threw on. He leaned against the frame of his door, yawning slightly as he peered at his visitor curiously. Of course, he didn't for long because in seconds Alfred had grabbed his shirt collar and hurled him into his front yard.

Gilbert let out a surprised yell as he landed on his ass in the still snowy lawn. The white fluff bit at his naked skin as he tried to understand what the hell was going on. He didn't have much time though, as a fist collided with his lip and his head snapped back with a shout. He backed away blindly, a hand cupping his now bleeding lip. What the fuck was going on?

"Alfred! What the hell!" He screamed, wiping the blood of his lip only to have more replace it. Alfred gave him the worst glare he had ever received from the American, which meant something because he got a glare from him almost every day. Fear slowly grew inside him as Alfred looked extremely menacing above him.

"You took advantage of my brother!" Alfred accused, grabbing his leg to drag the thrashing teen back toward him. Gilbert kicked him in the gut but it seemed to have little effect on his furious attacker. What was he talking about?

"I would never do that!" he defended himself, shielding his face with his hands as Alfred aimed to punch him there. He changed his mind, kicking him solidly in the side. Gilbert groaned, curling up in pain. He went in to throw another punch when a car horn sounded around them.

"Al. Stop!" Matthew shouted, running over to them and putting himself between the two. He had just pulled over the car, blaring the horn to make his brother halt his attack. He hoped he wasn't too late.

"Matthew. Get out of my way." Alfred said slowly, threateningly.

"No. Al you don't understand. Its not his fault!" He defied, keeping himself between them and clenching his fists as he heard the albino groan beneath him.

"He fucked you! He took your innocence! He pressured you! I'll kill him!" Alfred snapped, trying to get to Gilbert who was still writhing on the floor. He was going to kill him until he was dead.

"He's my boyfriend!"

Alfred fell silent, his heartbeat accelerating. Finally, he settled his attention on his twin. His blue eyes wide as he waited for the other to explain himself.

"We've been dating since early October." Matthew continued. Alfred's shoulders slumped slightly, his eyes losing all their fire.

"...Why didn't you tell me?" Matthew cringed as the words were devoid of anger, only dripping with hurt and betrayal. He didn't know what to tell him.

"Because." He pathetically murmured feeling guilt consume him once more.

"Because what? I can't believe you!" Alfred snapped, trying to cover up the pain he felt with anger, something he was more comfortable expressing.

"Al I-"

"You lied to me! You kept secrets! We're suppose to be twins!" Alfred interrupted, his whole figure shaking. How could he do this to him? How!

"Alfred, please-" Matthew tried but again Alfred wouldn't listen to him. He didn't even know if he deserved to be listened to.

"No. I cant even...I can't.." Alfred couldn't even find words to express himself and he fell silent, a silence that pressed against the brothers and threatened to consume them.

Matthew had never felt so horrible. He had betrayed Alfred to the point where he had no more words to shout. His disappointment slashed through the younger twin like a knife.

The feeling only worsened as Alfred turned away, not uttering a single word as he got back into his car and drove away. Matthew watched him go, unable to call after him before punching the ground in frustration. Why had he let this happen?

"Matt?" Gilbert asked hoarsely, sitting up with a little difficulty. His hand still pressed against his swelling lip but he wasn't thinking of his own pain at the moment.

Matthew turned to the worried tone, remembering his boyfriend who had been hurt because of him. "I'm sorry Gilbert." he murmured, crawling over to him. He grimaced at the blood on his face and how swollen his lip looked. "Let me clean you up."

"Matt what just happened?" Gilbert ask, hissing slightly as Matthew pushed his hand away to look at his face.

"I-I messed everything up and now my own brother hates me." He whispered, furious at himself. "I'm such an idiot."

"You're not an idiot. I'm sure he'll come around, it'll be ok." The Prussian reassured, if he was mad about last night then it was partially his fault as well. Matthew shook his head sadly, unconvinced.

"You don't know Al like I do. When he's angry he yells and calls you names and stuff. I've never seen him this angry, not even with Dad."

* * *

Alfred wasn't paying attention to where he was going. He didn't even know where he could go. Mattie...Mattie-no not anymore- _Matthew_ had lied to him, had lied to him even as he himself told him _everything_. Usually when he was upset he would go to Matthew for help or advice or for a hug. But now, Matthew was the problem. Who was he suppose to turn to? DId he have anybody else he could trust? If Matthew could lie to him anyone else could have too.

Apparently, his hands had figured that out before his brain as they steered toward a familiar home of his childhood. Toris' home came into view and he pulled into the driveway without any hesitancy. He knew he wasn't here for Toris though.

He walked to the door slowly, dejectedly. All his hurt feelings finally weighing in on him. With heavy footsteps, he trudged to the front door and rang the doorbell once. The door opened a few minutes later, revealing a surprised looking Ivan. The taller student seemed to be wearing his pajamas still even though it was probably past noon by now and he had his loyal scarf wrapped around his neck.

"Alfred?" He questioned but received no answer. Alfred stood there a moment, debating on what exactly to do but his mind was much to tired. Instead he took a step inside and practically fell onto the Russian as he embraced him tightly. Ivan tensed as the other pressed his face into his chest, his arms encircling his waist to pull him closer.

"Alfred?" He reiterated, horribly confused at the treatment he was receiving. He hadn't expected the American to visit him today and yet, here he was hugging him desperately. He wondered why.

"Stop. Don't say anything. Just be my teddy bear, please." Alfred mumbled feeling pathetic but not caring at the moment. He was a fucking mess and Ivan was the only person he could think of coming too. He better be able to trust him. Ivan was surprised at the request but shrugged, he couldn't complain about the attention he was receiving.

"Da." He answered, wrapping his arms around him tentatively. He guided him into the home and out of the cold, closing the door with his foot because his arms were occupied. "Now what is wrong?"

"Mattie...Matthew's been dating Gilbert and he didn't tell me." He murmured sadly.

"Da, I knew." Ivan stated simply.

"...You knew?"

"Yes, Matvey told me to keep it a secret." He recalled the conversation from a few days ago.

Come to think of it, Papa and Dad had known also. Had everyone known but him? Even Ivan? Why would Mattie-Matthew-keep it just from him! That made it hurt so much more. If Matti-Matthew-had lied to him about that and for so long...How could he ever trust him again?

* * *

Matthew waited at the kitchen counter for his brother to return. His fingers drummed on the marble impatiently as his feelings of uncertainty and guilt built up within him every passing moment. He needed Alfred to come home so he could rectify all of this.

He had returned home as quickly as possible, hoping to find Alfred already there. Unfortunately he was not, instead he had to sit down and talk to his parents (mostly Dad) about his relationship with Gilbert. Arthur had made him promise to not have sex in the house, to use protection at all times and to not do it often. Actually, his exact words were to never do it ever again until he was forty but Papa had told him it was ok.

And then he had moved to the kitchen to await his brother. Papa sat with him for a while, telling him it would be fine and that Alfred would forgive him. Matthew smiled at him but it faltered as time dragged on. Gilbert came over, worried about his boyfriend and was immediately interrogated by an angry Arthur. He then proceeded to defend himself as best he could, thankful for Francis' help in defending his case.

Afterward, he had sat with Matthew, trying to ease his nerves with his own words. It didn't really work because whenever the younger saw the Prussian's swollen lip it reminded him of what he had done. As the afternoon turned to dusk, Gilbert gave him a reassuring kiss before leaving to return to his own home.

Alfred, finally, came home as dinner was being eaten by the rest of the family. Matthew almost fell out of his chair as he ran over to his brother. He didn't expect what happened next.

He expected Alfred to glare at him, to curse him out and to go into his room. He expected to follow him and find him crying (though he would deny it) in his pillow. He expected to apologize and beg for forgiveness (using the terms Alfie and Hero a lot). He expect Alfred to forgive him, to hug him and to ask him never to lie again. It didn't go as expected.

Alfred didn't look at him, didn't acknowledge him as he moved to go upstairs.

"Alfred, we saved you're dinner." Arthur called, feeling the tension in the air and hoping to break it with his son's favorite, food.

"I already ate." Alfred answered simply, stopping his climb in order to do so.

"Alfred-" The younger twin began before being interrupted.

"Don't talk to me." Alfred hissed out, not turning around while also tightening his grip on the banister.

"Al." Matthew attempted to continue.

"Don't."

"Alfie." He tried, his last ditch effort. The one that always worked.

"Don't call me that. Don't ever call me that again." Until now. Alfred began walking up the stairs again and Matthew followed him, hoping to at least get one word through to his brother.

"Please don't do this." The younger blond pleaded as his twin reached his bedroom door. Alfred turned around, revealing his red irritated eyes as he glared at Matthew. The younger blond almost wanted to take a step back, but he didn't. Alfred had cried because of _him. _

"I don't get it. I tell you everything. _Everything._ I keep no secrets from you. I thought I could trust you, but you won't even tell me something as stupid as you dating Gilbert. And everyone else knew except for me! Who knows what other things you've been lying about? I can't believe you would do this to me, Matthew." Alfred's words tumbled out hoping to sound angry and forcefully but came out vulnerable and hurt. The fact that he used his real name instead of his affectionate nickname made it all the more painful.

"Al, I-"

"I don't want to hear it anymore. Its probably just another lie." And the door slammed shut. Matthew stood there a moment, feeling ten times worse than before. He had really screwed things up. This was usually Alfred's job! He needed to fix this. He would just go in, since Alfred was probably crying into his pillow, and explain himself. Yeah, and hopefully Alfred would fo-

The door was locked.

Matthew froze, his hand retracting from the knob as if it had been burned. Alfred had locked the door. He never locked the door. It was an unspoken rule between them, stemming from the first night they slept in different rooms. They wanted to be able to get to each other in the middle of the night in case of nightmare. Doors between them were to remain open and unlocked.

But Alfred had just locked his door, barring him from entering his room.

The full weight of the situation fell on Matthew's slim shoulders as he took a step back. Half of him wanted to bang on the door and beg to be let in. The other wanted to run to his room and cry. How could he have let this happen?

He backed away from the door and turned to walk over to his room. He didn't know how to fix this. He didn't even know if it could ever be fixed.

Alfred made a point to ignore his brother's existence completely for the next week. He sat with Kiku on the bus, he didn't look at him in the halls. He ate with Ivan on the roof. He went home with Ivan and stayed at his house for most of the day before returning home (making sure to come after dinner) and went straight to his room after greeting his parents with a smile.

Matthew realized that having an annoying, obnoxious blunt brother was better than having none at all. He hung out with Gilbert more, but still made an effort to be home in case Alfred would let him talk to him. He never did.

Arthur and Francis watched anxiously as a rift began to grow between the twins. They ceased to fight amongst each other as they focused more on their sons' problem. They spoke reassuringly to Matthew and tried to soften Alfred. They talked in hushed towns when alone, trying to figure out a way to settle the growing problem because Alfred refused to listen to Matthew and his brother was suffering because of that.

* * *

This chapter is a day early and I hope you like it!  
This was fun to write, I seem to derive pleasure form Alfred and Matthew's pain... Am I a bad person? Probably..

Anyway, I'm here to warn you guys that I might not be able to update during my winter break. I'll try but I'm making no promises. Don't worry though, once I get back updates will happen, back on schedule!

You guys are all so awesome for reviewing with such love. 500+ review is more than I could ever have wished for!

I love you all so much!

Oh and for Starlenia's fan art. Here's the link:

http : / silversplendor . deviantart .com /

I put it in last chapter but it didn't appear for some reason...Hopefully it will now!


	27. Chapter 26

Alfred took a bite of his burger, shivering slightly in the cold wind as he sat on the roof. It had all become routine. At lunch he'd meet Ivan on the roof and they would eat together and hang out. He remembered the first time he had eaten up here, the Russian had offered to go inside because Alfred was so cold. The blond had refused and instead demanded the other to give him his coat. It was mostly as a joke but to his surprise, Ivan took off his coat and handed it to him. He seemed unaffected by the cold weather.

It was routine.

Ivan arrived at the roof, pulled his coat off and wrapped it around Alfred who sighed contently and finished his meal. Ivan sat beside him and ate a warm soup he had just microwaved downstairs. Alfred talked while Ivan ate, mostly about nothing. Sometimes they argued, only verbally though, they never resorted to physical violence. Sometimes they agreed and sometimes they just sat in silence.

And sometimes in that silence, Alfred would fill it by a kiss instead of words.

He wasn't entirely sure how things had turned out this way but in the course of a week Ivan proved to be better company than his friends, his family and especially his brother. He was the only one he trusted, the only one who had yet to betray his trust. He was grateful for that.

He didn't know why he was compelled to kiss Ivan on some occasions. Wasn't the idea supposed to disgust him? Frankly, he enjoyed the feeling of the others lips on his, how his gloved hands held his face there gently yet firmly. He especially like how Ivan never brought up the fact that he was kissing him nor ask him why he had the change of hear. He honestly didn't know what had happened.

Ivan was an escape for Alfred and he gladly took advantage of the fact.

"Hey Ivan, how come you're never cold?" He asked, pulling the borrowed coat tighter around him as the cold December wind swept through him.

"Russia is much colder than this. I was cold there." Ivan answered, becoming more comfortable with the American's invasive questions. The other was too curious for his own good sometimes. Still, if it meant spending time with him instead of being alone then he would suffer through them.

"I doubt it. Its freezing here! Its probably a communistic plot against freedom." The blond teased with a smile. Ivan rolled his eyes, not giving the foolish comment the dignity of a response.

"What do you think we're going to do in History?" Alfred asked to fill the lapse of silence, his blue eyes turning to meet violet. Ivan shrugged, finishing off his soup.

"Most likely we shall continue speaking of Theodore Roosevelt's presidency." The Russian supplied, wondering why the American needed to know now since they would have that class once the bell rang. He didn't seem very interested in the subject anyway, if his notebook of doodles had anything to say about it.

"TR's cool... But I want to get to the World Wars! There so much more interesting!" Alfred whined, putting on a pout in order to express his sadness. Wars were interesting! Governmental policies weren't.

"That will be after winter break." The Russian reminded.

"Yeah, I know." Alfred sighed, standing up to stretch his legs. The thought of winter break made him happy, two weeks of vacation here we come! "Hey, what are you doing for Christmas?"

Ivan shrugged, "Nothing, I never celebrate the holiday."

Alfred gasped, staring at the paler teen in shock. "You've never celebrated Christmas? That has to be some form of abuse! You poor tortured soul!" He cried out, melodramatically. Ivan flinched at the word 'abuse', pulling his knees closer to himself unconsciously as his hand crept to his scarf for comfort.

"I am not Christian." He supplied.

"So? Christmas is as much about religion as it is about family!" Alfred reasoned remembering his past Christmases. Papa would make dinner on Christmas Eve, Dad would be nicer and they'd open up one present the night before. They'd all sit together around the television because Alfred was adamant on re-watching the classic Christmas specials on Rudolph and Santa because it was the American way.

"...I have no family." Ivan interrupted his merry thoughts.

Alfred stiffened, frowning further at the comment. That's right, Ivan didn't have any family here in the U.S... Well, other than Toris but his old friend seemed to be terrified of his new ward. "Well, you can celebrate it with me! Come on, it'll be fun!" He added excitedly, it was what a hero would do. Plus, maybe Ivan would warm up if he was introduced to an awesome Christmas. It was such a major part of his own childhood he couldn't even imagine growing up without it. He really did wish Ivan would tell him more about his past...

"What do I do?" Ivan asked, standing up, curious to find out the American customs for the holiday. Alfred grinned at the question, Christmas was probably his favoirte holiday, second only to Independence day which happened to also be his birthday.

"Well, you get a big Christmas tree and decorate it with ornaments and stuff. You put wreaths and candles all around and me, Papa and Mattie put out a little manger." He faltered slightly at his brothers name but continued. "Dad's not very religious, anyway Christmas Eve me and m- I watch Christmas specials all day and that night Papa makes an awesome dinner. Then we, except for Dad, go to our old church, say hi to some of the nuns and go to mass. Christmas day we come down and there's all these presents for me and Ma- And we open them and laugh and watch more Christmas specials and hang out with each other and stuff.. We play with our new gifts and everything."

Ivan nodded, trying to keep all the information in his brain. But, something nagged in his mind, "Alfred, when will you speak with your brother again?" It was obvious how much their estrangement was hurting both parties. He knew he owed the blossoming of their relationship in part to the feud but he wanted Alfred to forgive his brother. He had come to like Alfred happy and not angry and so he wanted him happy. And that meant being close with his brother.

Alfred stiffened and turned away, he didn't answer the question. The bell rang and he pulled the coat off, returning it to his owner with a grin. He changed the subject quickly as they walked to their next class, keeping away from the subject of his brother.

* * *

Matthew was suffering, the guilt weighing down on him with each passing day that Alfred ignored his existence. He didn't know what to do anymore, this had never happened to them before. Ever.

The twins had been close since the day they were born. In the orphanage they resided in they were attached at the hip, causing mischief together always. Once they were adopted they remained attached. The first day of school they refused to let go of each others hands, in fear of losing the other.

As their school became a less than welcoming environment, they depended on each other even more. Always together, and with no other friends, they were each others. When the family finally moved, they braved the new school together with much better results. Even as they each befriended others they still remained side by side.

As they grew and the idea of growing apart festered in the minds of their parents they continued to be close. They played video games together, they confided in each defended each other against their parents, the helped each other whenever one of them was caught in a mess. And then Matthew had messed up and Alfred had locked a door between them. The bond had broken and the wound left open just would not heal.

Gilbert became increasingly angry at the American who also shunned him as well. He wasn't angry because he was being ignored, he was angry because Matthew was so sad about this. And it was partially his fault. He tried to get Alfred to talk to him but the other simply continued to ignore him.

Francis wished his son's would make up. He lamented how the Christmas spirit was being crushed down by all the tension. Usually by now, the boys would have cut down a Christmas tree and decorated it. Alfred was never home and Matthew didn't want to do it without him. Alfred refused to listen to him and always left the room whenever Matthew entered.

Arthur was growing tired of the fight. A petty fight in his opinion. He had believed the twin's bond was stronger than this disagreement. He decided he would have to take action, telling his husband he was going to force Alfred to speaking with his brother. It was the only to get through his thick head.

"Non, Arthur. That will make it worse. Do not force Alfred to do anything, you must persuade him to do it himself." Francis had cautioned, not wanting the argument to grow further. For once, Arthur listened to his husband's advice. He did not yell at Alfred, instead he spoke to him.

Alfred returned home from hanging out with Ivan, he greeted his parents and went upstairs to his room. Matthew sighed sadly from his seat at the table, finding himself no longer hungry. Francis pet his wavy hair comfortingly but it did nothing to alleviate the aura of gloom around the younger twin's person. Arthur decided enough was enough and climbed up the stairs.

He tried to open his son's door, finding it surprisingly locked. He frowned, knocking on the door, "Its your father, open up."

Alfred unlocked the door, letting his dad into the room. Arthur could see his son had been about to play some video game or another. The T.V was on, showing some sort of menu and his game system was hooked up. He sat down on the bed, beside his son and said nothing. He tried to gather his words, he was used to just yelling out whatever he thought of first, not actually approaching a subject delicately. But Francis had asked him to be delicate.

"Alfred," He began, turning his attention to the teen sitting next to him. Blue eyes flicked to look into green.

"Yeah, Dad?" He asked casually, stretching himself and lying back down on his bed. His eyes continued to look up at his father as he got more comfortable. He wondered what was so important that it had to interrupt his gaming.

"You need to forgive your brother." He finally said, feeling the boy tense next to him. This was going to be a very difficult conversation. He wasn't very good at this emotional stuff. Alfred didn't respond, his face frowning and his eyes looking down at his bed.

"Alfred, you two are so close." Arthur tried to reason as Alfred remained unresponsive. Instead, his son turned away so he was facing the wall, his back to him. Arthur sighed as he was forced to have a conversation with the back of Alfred's head. He was about to continue when Alfred spoke softly, bitterly.

"I thought so too."

"Alfred, I haven't spoken to my brothers in 20 years." Arthur reminded with a sad frown. Alfred stayed silent, grasping a pillow in his tense hands. "You know why? Because they didn't approve of my lifestyle. But we were never that close."He grimaced slightly at the thought of them but he knew he really should reach out to them some day...

Alfred hugged the pillow slightly tighter but made no move to continue the conversation.

"But, you and Matthew are so close and loving. I would hate to see you drift apart over something so trivial as this petty fight." He reasoned, leaning forward and putting a hand on his son's shoulder. Alfred tensed further.

"Do you not want to see your brother for 20 whole years?" Arthur asked, letting the question sink in. Alfred didn't try and answer, instead he clenched tighter around the pillow.

"He lied to me." He stated, betrayal and hurt still as vivid in the way he spoke as the day it happened.

"I know, but is it worth losing him?"

The fact struck Alfred and he paused to think. He didn't know, he was still so angry about it. Still, this feud was hurting him too and he missed his brother so much. But, he didn't even know how to fix it, how to trust his brother again. He didn't know what he was suppose to do.

They had never fought like this before so he hadn't the slightest idea how he was suppose to even mend it.

"I bet if he was in your position he would have forgiven you already. He always does." Arthur said softly, threading his fingers through the short blond hair. He had done it when they were younger and he continued to do so now. It still comforted Alfred to feel those fingers in his hair.

"Listen to him. Let him speak. Do you realize how much this is hurting him?" Arthur continued, his voice insistent. Alfred didn't know, in fact. He had ignored his twin completely and because of that, had no idea how he was feeling. A little guilt began to grow within him as he tried to push it down.

Arthur let out a long sigh and stood up from the bed. Alfred lost the fingers in his hair and the comforting weight by his side. He didn't move as his father left his room, only pausing by the door to add one last thing, "Blood is thicker than water, Alfred. Imagine life without him." He closed the door, and left. Alfred was alone.

He stayed on his bed, brooding for a long while as he debated on what to do. Finally he sighed, getting up from his bed and unlocking the door. He left it slightly ajar and went back to his bed. He pressed play on his video game controller and started playing his game as he waited. He didn't have to wait long.

Matthew climbed up the stairs tiredly, seeing Arthur come down with a frown. He passed his brother's room with longing glance before retiring to his own. He grasped at his little stuffed bear, hugging him close to him. Hugging the gift was the closest he got to his brother lately... Then he stiffened as he realized something.

Without dropping Kumajirou, he opened his door to peer at Alfred's. It was open. The door was open. Matthew's heartbeat accelerated considerably as he made his way quickly to the neighboring bedroom. He stepped inside without a word and stood there awkwardly, silently.

Alfred shut off his game, turning toward where his twin stood. He tried to keep his face emotionless. Matthew stared at the floor, unsure what exactly to say as he hid behind his little stuffed bear. Alfred took notice of it and broke the silence. He hated silence.

"Why do you have him with you?" He asked curiously, hoping it would break the awkward silence that he had never had with his twin before. He didn't know what else he was supposed to say.

Matthew didn't look up, afraid of messing this chance up. Instead he just spoke, "My big brother gave it to me." He whispered softly, sadly, "So when I can't hug my big brother I hug him." He continued, tightening his grip on the polar bear. He would not cry. He would not cry. He was sixteen! He would not cry. But why did he feel like such a little kid right now? He was even speaking like one. Maybe..Maybe Alfred would actually pay attention to him now...

"Why did you need to hug him?" Alfred asked, trying to mask his forming guilt. Shit, he could never stand for his brother to be sad or hurt. What had he done? Had he really been that oblivious to his pain?

"I had a nightmare." Matthew's voice was strained, his violet blue eyes refusing to meet the blue of his brother. The blue that had denied him for much to long.

"About what?" More guilt consumed him as he thought about how he had locked his door. Mattie had always made sure to leave his door open at night in case Alfred had a nightmare, which he did on numerous occasions when they were younger. What if Mattie had tried to come over for comfort only to be met with a lock? Now he felt horrible. But the other had lied to him! Suddenly, that didn't seem as bad as hurting his brother...

"A-About my big brother never speaking to me again." And Matthew broke down, his shoulders shaking as he cried into the soft white fur. He tried to shield his pain with the bear but it was painfully obvious he was crying. Damn it, why'd he have to do this to himself. He was almost an adult! But...He really did miss his twin and it hurt so much not to see him.

And Alfred felt absolutely horrible. There was nothing worse in his eyes than seeing his brother suffer to the point of tears. Actually there was. Seeing his brother suffer to the point of tears _because of him_. He couldn't take it. He stood up from his seat on the bed and flung himself at his lost twin. Wrenching Kumajirou away and replacing him with himself. Mattie didn't need the bear anymore, he had him.

Matthew accepted him gratefully, wrapping his arms around him as he cried on his shoulder. Alfred rubbed his back soothingly and before long they were both spouting out the same words, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry I lied. I should have told you." Matthew murmured and Alfred held him closer.

"I'm sorry I've been so cruel." Alfred responded.

"I promise, Al. I promise no more lies and no more secrets." His tears were slowing down and his breathing calming.

"I promise too." Alfred said back and Matthew felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He felt his brother kiss his forehead and he knew he was forgiven. Alfred gave him a soft smile and Matthew returned it.

The American maneuvered Matthew to sit on his bed and sat down beside him. The younger twin was now trying to wipe his tears from his cheeks, feeling happier than he had in a long time.

"I missed you, Alfie." He whispered softly and Alfred squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.

"I missed ya too, Mattie."

Matthew's smile grew at the statement and he felt infinitely better. But he wasn't sure what to do now. Should he leave and let him play his video game? Should he stay? Alfred, though, seemed to have it all figured out.

"So, tell me all about you and Gil." Alfred started curiously, a smug little grin growing on his face as Matthew blushed at the demand.

"..You're not mad that we're dating?" He asked nervously, glancing up at his usually fiercely protective brother.

"That depends on how he's been treating you. So spill it."

Matthew giggled lightly, squirming in his seat on the bed to get slightly more comfortable. "Okay, but you have to tell me about Ivan. You two have been spending a lot of time together." It was Alfred's turn to blush and Matthew's to smirk.

"Yeah, well, I haven't had sex with him yet!" Alfred snapped, trying to defend himself.

"Yet?" Matthew teased seeing his brother's blush turn redder.

"Shut up!" Alfred quickly cried. Sure he had sort of started thinking about it more but that didn't mean he was going to do it anytime soon!

Matthew laughed harder, "Fine, I'll start." And he proceeded to tell Alfred everything that had happened between Gilbert and himself. Everything leading to the faithful night of intimacy though he didn't describe that part, that would be much to embarrassing.

"Wow Mattie, you're such a girl sometimes." Alfred teased. Matthew swatted his arm with a frown.

"Al! I'm not a girl." He defended, crossing his arms firmly.

"Who bottomed then?" Alfred asked smugly and Matthew's defenses wilted. Alfred laughed, patting his brother on the shoulder before beginning a much more serious part of the conversation.

"He didn't pressure you, right?"

"No, Al."

"He used protection?"

"Yes, Al." This was the brother he remembered. The super protective one.

"He used lube?"

"Al! Why are we talking about _this._" And they said he took more after their Papa!

"Answer the question, I'm merely trying to heroically assess the situation and your safety." _And whether or not I need to beat some Prussian ass._

"Yes, he used lube."

"Did he prepare you enough?"

"Yes Al! God, can we please stop."

"Did he let you adjust?"

"Alfred! Yes, okay? Are we done?"

"One last question," Alfred said, "Did he get you to orgasm."

Matthew beat him with a pillow in mortification. Alfred laughed as he demanded him to answer the question. Matthew continued his assault, all the while snapping "Yes, okay! Are you happy now?". This continued on until the door opened quickly, revealing a worried Arthur.

"Boys, I thought I heard fightin- What are you two doing?" He asked incredulously. It wasn't every day he saw his feuding sons having a pillow fight. Alfred laughed harder, using the distraction to pull Matthew down and give him a noogie. Matthew whined, thrashing his head as Alfred continued to cackle.

"Oh, just brotherly bonding, Dad. You can go." Alfred assured. Arthur blinked before smiling in relief and closing the door. Finally.

Matthew was finally able to pull free, sending his brother a glare that had no real force. He was still happy to be on his twin's good side again. The pair calmed down, sitting opposite to each other.

"Well, you're turn. Tell me about your Russian sweetheart." Matthew teased, wanting to have some sort of fun of his own. Alfred blushed like earlier, grimacing at the idea of Ivan being his 'sweetheart'.

"Well we don't fight anymore... And uh... He's nicer?" Alfred really didn't know how to explain the weird relationship he had grown to have with the Russian.

"Is he your boyfriend?" Matthew offered.

"I guess? I don't even know..." Wow was he a fail in relationships.

"Have you kissed?" He had seen him kiss Ivan that one time at the door but he wanted to know if they had done it some more.

"Well, yeah."

"What do you talk about?"

"Whatever there is to talk about. Oh, I invited him over for Christmas." He notified before his eyes widened. "Shoot! Christmas is in two week and we haven't done anything! We have to get a tree, hang the wreath, put out the manger. I haven't even started shopping!"

"Calm down Al. We can go Christmas tree shopping tomorrow, and decorate together all right? You can even invite Ivan if you want to." Because he kind of wanted an excuse to invite Gil...

"Okay. But lets cut the tree down just the two of us, like always." Alfred quickly stated, wanting to catch up with his twin some more. He would invite Ivan over afterward.

Matthew smiled, "Of course."

* * *

Short chapter is shortish.  
I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Look, twins are happy once more!

Ok, now for bad news. I most likely will not be able to write over my winter break because I'm going to be out of town for the entire time. Sorry guys. Don't worry though! Once I come back I'll return to my normal schedule.

I hope this chapter doesn't suck, I'm a little rushed with packing. -.-  
Next chapter we have some more fun with Ivan and Alfred :3

Oh, and we have more lovely fan art, this time by mudbloodkiller!  
http:/deidaragroopie . deviantart . com/ art / PruCan- sketch- 188656388

Thank you so much for all the support you've given me! I mean, I started this six months ago not even knowing if I would finish it! Of course, now I have to because of all of you wonderful reviewers. So thank you for sharing the love!

Merry Christmas (or whatever holiday you celebrate) and Happy New Year!

I'll see you in 2011!


	28. Chapter 27

Ivan put on his coat carefully as he prepared to leave his home for Alfred's. The boy had invited him over to decorate for Christmas. He didn't know entirely what that would entail but he accepted any excuse to be near the other. Especially if it was Alfred's idea. Their relationship was advancing wonderfully in his opinion and he didn't want to jeopardize it in any way.

As he was about to leave though, the phone rang angrily. It broke the silence of the home (Toris was out at the moment) and made Ivan hiss in displeasure. He absolutely hated phones. He disliked the idea of being able to contact someone at any time, even when other people had important matters to attend to, such as going to Alfred's home. Grudgingly, he stepped away from the door and picked up the device.

"Da?" He spoke into it, annoyed that he might be late because of this imbecilic call. There was a sharp intake of breath on the other line but nothing else. Perhaps they were confused at what he had said?

"Hello?" He tried but still there was nothing except... he wasn't sure if it was another intake of breath or a muffled sob. I must have just been a breath and after a moment the line went dead. He furrowed his brows in confusion as he wondered if that was some strange American custom. To him it just seemed rude, but, then again, there were many rude things Americans seemed to accept. He brushed it off, much more focused on leaving the home in favor of Alfred's.

It couldn't be anything important.

* * *

"We're back!" Alfred called into the house, leaving his brother to untie the tree from the car in order to notify their parents of their return. He heard a few curses upstairs and some shuffling. Great, now he knew what his parents had been doing. Surely this house was where innocence was killed repeatedly thanks to Papa.

Arthur stumbled down the stairs, his hair messy but all his clothes thankfully on. "Ah, wonderful." he coughed out, trying to see if he had any hopes of denying what he had previously been doing. Of course it didn't work.

"Dad, do you two _have_ to do it every time we leave the house? Its reall-" There was a muffled shout and thud from outside that reminded Alfred he had left his brother alone. He cursed under his breath before hurrying toward him.

"Mattie? What happened?" Alfred asked, seeing his brother cradling his hand with the tree on the ground beside him instead of on the roof of the car.

"You left me to do this by myself! And now I'm covered in splinters." Matthew complained, showing off his right hand as proof. Arthur, who had come out as well, made a tsking sound at Alfred, coming forward to lead Matthew back into the house in order to help get the splinters out. Alfred pouted, looking down at the tree and realizing that now _he_ was the one who was suppose to carry it back inside alone.

He looked at the tree thoughtfully, planning out his strategy. He absolutely detested splinters so he definitely wanted to avoid them. Maybe he should wait until Matthew was ready to help again? But he wanted the tree inside now! Sacrifices had to be made. Alfred bent down, thinking he would just grab it by the trunk and drag it in.

"Hello, Alfred."

Alfred straightened up immediately in surprise, looking up to see Ivan standing in front of him with a curious look. He had on his trademark smile though Alfred could tell this one was a sincerely happy one. He had come to be an expert on Ivan's smiles, it was something he picked up from being around him so much.

"Am I too early?" The Russian questioned, tilting his head slightly from the surprised look he had received. Perhaps he had miscalculated how long it would take to reach the others residence and had arrived at the wrong time.

"No! Actually, you're perfect. Help me carry this in, would ya?" Alfred quickly asked, motioning to the tree with his hand. Wow, that was really lucky! See, life could be nice to him sometimes! And it even involved Ivan! Then again, the Russian had been pretty cool lately. And they were sort of dating... He still wasn't sure what they were doing but he didn't think they were boyfriends yet or anything... Or maybe they were? It was all still too weird. At least Ivan wasn't pressing him too much on trying to understand what the hell they were. He needed time to figure everything out.

"Da." Ivan answered simply, leaning down and curling his fingers around the trunk of the tree. He was wearing his thick coat so the needles didn't effect him and his gloves allowed him to grip the prickly bark with ease. Wearing gloves had many advantages,other than the primary one of protecting his hands from that awful fluid.

Alfred leaned down as well, grasping the trunk carefully. He hissed, retracting his hand quickly. Damn it!Why were they do easy to get? He hated splinters, abhorred them. Aww man, and it was one of those small ones that never come out! Ivan let go of the trunk as well, peering at him curiously.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, still with his creepy smile but Alfred caught how it was turned down slightly; Ivan was worried.

"Stupid splinter." Alfred explained glaring at his hand.

"Ah, would..Would you like to use my gloves?" Ivan offered hesitantly. Alfred grinned, oblivious as usual and nodded his head excitedly. With gloves he could pick up the tree with ease and be the hero of Christmas! Ivan hesitated slightly before peeling the black gloves from his hands. He handed them over quickly before he could change his mind. This was for Alfred, he would be fine. He wouldn't get hurt or bleed or anything. And afterward he could get his gloves back. It would be fine. Or at least, that is what he continued to repeat to himself.

Alfred put the gloves on, they were slightly big on him but he didn't care at the moment. He bent down to pick up the trunk, the splinter in his hand hurting him slightly but not enough to complain...yet. He looked up, realizing that Ivan now had to pick up the trunk without any protection. Shit...that was a kind of ass thing to do..

"Hey, you can keep the gloves. I mean, I'll suck it up..." He quickly stated since he didn't want to feel like a jackass.

"It is fine." Ivan replied easily, picking up his end of the tree. They shuffled into the house, through the hall and into the family room where Arthur had pulled out a stand for them. The pair hauled the tree into the stand and Ivan held it as Alfred secured it in place.

"There." Alfred said proudly, gazing at the awesome tree which was still wrapped in its protective wire string thing.

"Now?" Ivan asked with a tilt of his head.

"Now, we free it from its confines and decorate it. I think Gil is coming over too."

"Ah, may I have my gloves back?" Ivan asked tentatively.

"Hmm?" Alfred looked at him and locked eyes with slightly fear filled violet ones. And then he remembered the ordeal in the bathroom, the paint and the hysterics. How had that slipped his mind? Oh yeah Papa..and then his emotions and then Mattie. Well, he was going to get to the bottom of this once and for all!

"Thanks." Alfred merely said, taking off the gloves and handing them over. "And I want to know. Ok? Like tonight."

Ivan's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and so Alfred continued, "I want to know about what happened when you were little that caused that panic attack in the bathroom."

Ivan's eyes widened, "I...Alfred-"

"I mean it. I'm sick of you keeping secrets." _Sick of secrets all together._

"Alfred, I do not wish to disclose this information." Ivan replied carefully. If he told him he would hate him. Things were going so well. He couldn't destroy everything he had worked so hard to make now!

"I have the right to know, I am your boyfriend." He snapped without thinking.

"You are?" Ivan asked surprised, had they made such progress? Without him even realizing?

"Uh..." Alfred reddened as he registered what he had just blurted out. He really needed to think before he spoke! "I mean...er...maybe? I-" He flexed his hand uncomfortably and remembered the splinter still lodged in his palm. "I have to go get this splinter out. Dad!" He yelled quickly.

"What?" Arthur called back from the kitchen, notifying his son of his whereabouts through the sound of his voice. Alfred quickly made his escape, leaving Ivan to ponder in the family room as he found his father putting away the tweezers.

"I have a splinter."

Arthur sighed with annoyance as he pulled the tweezers out and pointed to the chair. Alfred obeyed the silent command, sitting down on the table and extending his hand out. "Alright, how many?"

"Just one, its near my ring finger."

"One? You're brother had seven. You're old enough to be doing this yourselves, you realize." Arthur scolded softly, taking his son's hand carefully to bring it closer to his face. He took the tweezers, bringing them closer to the hand and heard Alfred make a whimper. "I haven't done anything yet."

"It still hurts!" Alfred whined like the four year old he regressed into during situations like this.

Arthur rolled his eyes, pinching the splinter only to have the boy retract with an 'ow'.

"Alfred! Matthew sat there quietly while I did this, you can do the same."

"But it hurts!"

"Man up, boy." Arthur snapped, grabbing the hand with more force so that the boy wouldn't be able to get away. Alfred started to whine louder, being over dramatic as always. Arthur ignored him, plucking the splinter out easily as Alfred made an extra loud sound of pain. Once the Englishman released him, Alfred held his hand to his chest as if he had broken it.

Ivan, peeking in from the other room, glared at the back of the English father's head. From his position he could only see Alfred's face, clearly watching as it distorted in pain. And what did his father do instead of stopping or consoling him? He made it hurt more. He gripped the door frame tightly to control himself.

He did not like him, not at all. A flash of those dark hateful eyes snapped in his head and he had to close his eyes tightly to get the image out of his mind. He couldn't do anything. Not now. He opened his eyes slowly with a calming breath and blinked as he found concerned blue before him.

"Dude, you ok?" Alfred questioned, looking at him curiously.

"Da, I am fine. When will we start decorating?" He asked in order to change the subject.

"Er, now I guess. Let me find Mattie, I don't know where he ran off to..."

"I'm right here Al." Matthew sighed from the kitchen counter as the pair turned around, surprised. Had he been there the entire time? Mattie definitely had some super power that made him invisible, which made him perfect as his sidekick.

"Oh, cool. When's Gil coming?"

"Soon, actually I think that's his car coming in." Matthew answered, looking through the window at the familiar car, the same one that had escorted them on their first date.

"The loud one is coming?" Ivan questioned, not very happy about the sudden turn in events. He was hoping to be with Alfred alone. Granted Matvey would be there but he was barely noticeable so it would of been fine. But the loud one always got in the way of things. Alfred snorted at the nick name and Matthew frowned, turning away to go and let his boyfriend in.

"So, what are we decorating?" Ivan asked, turning toward the American.

"The tree of course."

"The AWESOMENESS has arrived!" Gilbert bellowed into the home with his loud obnoxious voice and Ivan's mood immediately soured. Still, he would put up with the other for Alfred's sake.

Alfred's own eyes narrowed at Gilbert as he sauntered into the room, he found pleasure in that the others eye was still slightly bruised from their scuffle a while ago. He moved forward grabbing the others forearm.

"We need to talk."

"About what? Are you going to apologize for attacking me?" The albino countered.

Alfred gritted his teeth, "You're not helping your case Gilbert."

Matthew elbowed Gilbert in the side, a silent plea for him to behave himself.

"Fine, we won't talk." Alfred said lowly before leaning in very close to the others ear. "But if you hurt just one single hair on my baby brother's head I will personally castrate you and shove your head up your ass." He pulled back and gave him a bright grin, "You got that?"

Gilbert swallowed thickly but remained arrogant as ever, grinning cockily, "Sure thing future bro." Alfred shuddered at the idea of ever being related to the Prussian and turned away, moving back to Ivan who was peering at the scene curiously.

"Do you wish for me to hurt him? I can make it appear as an accident." Ivan offered because, frankly, he would love to be allowed to damage the albino in some way. It would give him much pleasure. Unfortunately, Alfred denied him.

"Can we just get started?" Matthew asked, annoyed as he ushered everyone into the family room where the tree stood bare and waiting. Alfred's mood did a 180 at the sight because damn did he love Christmas. Arthur had already pulled out all the boxes filled with decorations and the American quickly set to work unpacking them. Before they could start though he had to free the tree of its constraints. With a grin he began cutting away the wires, clearly having much more fun than he should have.

Ivan hung back as trio began untangling lights and wrapping them around the nude tree. He played with the end of his scarf, feeling quite out of place and wondering how his sisters were doing at this moment. Its was where his thoughts usually wondered when not engaged in Alfred related things. And once he got on the subject of his sisters, his mind would delve deeper and deeper until he couldn't take it any lon-

"Ivan! Earth to Ivan!" Alfred called, annoyed, breaking the Russian's train of thought. "I need your tall ass over here." He only called him over for help, not because the worrying facial expression on the other had made him concerned or anything... Not at all.

The pale haired teen blinked and padded over obediently. The tree the twins had cut down was quite tall, a head or two taller than himself he realized as he stood before it. "Yes, Alfred?"

"I'm lazy and I don't want to get the ladder. Lift me up so I can put the star on the tree." It was an order, he wouldnt ask the other for a favor. Ivan smirked slightly.

"Of course, little American. Though, I could probably reach it myself." It was always fun to boast about his height, especially since Alfred felt self conscious about being shorter than him.

Alfred glared at him, "I always put the star on the tree. And I'm not little! You're just huge and stupid!" Best come back ever. Why the hell was Ivan giggling at him? He should be crying from shame! And why was he, himself, blushing like some girl? Damn Ivan.

And suddenly he couldn't feel the wood beneath his feet.

"Shit! Could you at least give me a little warning?" He complained, getting his bearings as Ivan held him securely up. "Get me closer."

"Alfred, you know you should say please." Gilbert teased from the other side of the room where he was helping his boyfriend unpack ornaments. Alfred shot him a glare.

Ivan blinked at that and set the other down with a cruel smirk. "He is right, it is only polite for you to say please."

"I fuckin' hate you, you _German_ reject." Alfred hissed out and Gilbert absolutely bristled.

"I'm fucking PRUSSIAN."

"That dumb country doesn't even exist anymore!"

"You're not going to exist anymore once I crush you with my aweseomeness!"

"Gil! Al! Stop it!" Matthew scolded and they both quieted, though, they did continue to glare at one another with open hostility. Alfred's glare was disrupted once more as he was lifted from the ground.

"Put the star on the tree, da?" Ivan said, skillfully distracting the American from his feud. Nobody should be allowed to fight with his blond except him. Nobody should be able to consume all of his fiery attention except him. He would make sure of it.

"Oh right...er..thanks" He decided to add before stretching his arm to try and place the star on the tree. He probably should of gotten the ladder... Ah oh well, the hero always prevails in the end! "Closer!" He ordered and Ivan obliged though his arms were getting tired.

"Alfred, place the star. You are heavier than you think."

"I am not fat!" He snapped self consciously, "And it has to be perfect so don't rush me!"

Finally, Alfred was able to 'perfectly' set the star upon the tree. He grinned at it as Ivan put him back down on solid ground. It was brilliantly placed, in his opinion at least. He then crouched down to fish out some ornaments as Matthew and Gilbert finished wrapping the lights around the tree.

Ivan's next job, as Alfred kept assigning them to him, was to put the highest ornaments on the tree. He did so easily, smirking at how Alfred had to get on his tippy toes to reach the 'spot destined for this certain ornament' because he didn't want to ask for any more help.

With the top of the tree done, Ivan stepped back to give Alfred and his twin more room for the rest of the tree. He enjoyed watching Alfred decorating much more than actually doing it himself. How Alfred's blue eyes sparkled in joy as his Christmas tree came to life. There was no denying the others love for this particular holiday and Ivan only wished Alfred could find the same sort of enjoyment from time spent with himself. He frowned at the improbability of the thought ever being realized.

Gilbert had also stepped back from the tree but for a completely different reason. From here, he had the perfect view of his boyfriends ass as Matthew bent down to search for more ornaments. It was to the point where the albino couldn't help but smack it, eliciting an adorable little squeak from the victim. Matthew reddened in embarrassment and straightened up, sending the Prussian a scolding glare that Gilbert promptly ignored.

Ivan tilted his head at the interaction and looked over to Alfred, who, completely focused on Christmas, was oblivious to what had just happened to his little brother. Is spanking something couples normally did? He had read it in a sexual context in one of the magazines in Alfred's french father's closet... Matthew and Gilbert had just done it and he had seen Alfred's parents do it as well. He did enjoy Alfred when he was red and embarrassed just as Matthew had been moments before... He wondered what would happen if he did so as well.

Alfred, humming some sort of carol or another, bent down innocently in order to reach one of the ornaments he had made when he was younger. This particular one he had made when he was seven for an art class. He remembered it clearly, he had made it specifically for Dad in the shape of a tea cup with snowflakes on it. He flipped the peace of ceramic over to see his chicken scratch on the other side and smiled softly. He almost dropped it when something struck his ass.

He yelped in surprise, swirling around to see Ivan smirking at him. "What the hell was that for!" Alfred snapped, his face reddening slightly as he realized Ivan had just _spanked_ him. What the hell!

"Gilbert did it to Matvey." Ivan defended simply, tilting his head toward the albino.

"Yeah, well they've been dating for a while a- Wait what?" His blue eyes widened and he swiveled toward the white haired teen. "Don't you dare disrespect my brother!"

"Al, please don't do this. Its fine, ok? I can deal with him myself just fine." Matthew pleaded, sick and tired of the two fighting. If this continued he'd have to play the baby brother tactic and perhaps bring 'Christmas spirit' into the mix.

Alfred frowned and was about to continue anyway when Gilbert's voice broke the tension. "Hey, look what I found!"

The twins turned to him curiously as Gilbert brought over one of the boxes. Inside, old VHS tapes of the classic Christmas tales resided. From Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer to Santa Claus is Coming to Town.

Ivan peered in, not recognizing the titles but recognizing from Alfred's facial expression that they held some sentimental value toward the teen.

"We should totally watch one right now!" Alfred exclaimed happily, grabbing one of the tapes at random. Matthew sighed, knowing that Alfred would turn 'one' into all of them and they would get nothing done.

"We need to finish the tree, Al." He reminded, hoping his brother would agree with him.

"Yeah, but... Ivan what do you think?" The American turned to the taller teen, hoping he would agree with him and let him watch one of the specials.

"I do not know. I have never seen these so I couldn't give you a correct opinion on whether it would be better to watch them or decorate the tree." Ivan answered honestly, not expecting the reaction he received from his words.

Alfred's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as he stared at the Russian in shock. "You've never seen them? H-how? This is my entire childhood, man! Holy shit!"

Matthew sighed, "I'll go make the popcorn." There was no way they were getting out of watching the specials now.

"Alright, this is an emergency. Ivan sit your ass down on the couch. We're going to fix this problem ASAP. Gil, what should we watch first?"

"Well, Rudolph is definitely the key to all of these specials..." Gilbert mused, a serious expression on his face and Alfred quickly agreed.

"Rudolph?" Ivan spoke up, slightly confused as Alfred plopped down beside him. Gilbert put the tape into the TV before sitting on the ground, his back resting against the couch.

"Yeah! Hes like the hero of Christmas. Santa can't do shit without him." Alfred explained, grabbing the remote to turn up the sound. He could hear the popcorn popping and licked his lips in anticipation.

"Santa?"

"...You do know who Santa is right?" If Ivan didn't, well then they'd have to have a serious talk. How could he not know who Santa was?

"Da. But do you think he exists?" Ivan replied, he had come to know the odd old man of American lore from his stay in the states. The man appeared everyone once December came along, from store adds to television commercials. It was impossible to escape him.

"No, course not. But its still a good story! Stop trying to kill the Christmas spirit." Alfred said, hoping they were done talking so they could watch the special. The beginning was extremely important!

"So, we are watching this?" Ivan asked, looking over at the screen to see a talking snowman... Well this was going to be interesting.

"Yeah! And then we're watching the year without a Santa Claus" Matthew came back into the room, holding a big bowl of popcorn which he handed to Alfred out of habit. He was the one who would eat most of the bowl anyway. The younger twin then proceeded to sit beside his boyfriend, hoping Alfred would be so consumed by his special that he could perhaps make out with Gilbert. Only a little of course!

"Any reason?" Ivan questioned.

"Dude, it has like, the best song in it." Alfred made a duh face.

"What song is it?" Ivan asked innocently.

"Oh god, Ivan why did you ask?" Matthew cried out, knowing the monster had been unleash. Suddenly, Alfred started singing obnoxiously loud and off key. Damn it! Why did Ivan have to ask?

"I'm Mr. Green Christmas, I'm Mr. Sun! I'm Mr. Heat Blister, I'm Mr. Hundred and One! They call me Heat Miser, whatever I touch, starts to melt in my clutch. I'm too much!" Ivan imediately regretted his decision at the sound but thankfully it wasn't that long of song. Or at least thats what he thought as it appeared to be over after Alfred went 'da da dun dun'.

"Come on Mattie." Alfred had stopped singing because, like when they were little, Matthew was supposed to sing the other brother's part. It was a tradition, a custom! Still Matthew refused to sing until Alfred kicked him lightly in the shoulder. With a sigh of defeat he started in a soft voice.

"...I'm Mr. White Christmas, I'm Mr. Snow. I'm Mr. Icicle, I'm Mr. Ten Below. They call me Snow Miser, whatever I touch, starts to freeze in my clutch. I'm too much." Gilbert whispered his congratulations for a beautiful performance before he was elbowed in the ribs by an annoyed looking Matthew.

The room fell into silence as their attention turned back to the television and the story of Rudolph. Ivan found it at least somewhat entertaining, especially how Alfred seemed to derive immense joy from it. He must have a lot of happy memories from watching these shows with his family.

Ivan felt a little jealous that he couldn't have been as blessed. He wondered why he had deserved such a horrid childhood, and then he remembered he was a murderer and thus deserved every single thing that had happened to him.

"Ah, the Christmas specials?" Arthur spoke up, coming into the family room after checking in on Francis who he hoped would take it easy. If the sounds coming from the stairs were any indication, he could tell that the frog wasn't going to stay in bed. He was probably going to go cook something or another instead of resting. "I still cant believe they were able to fit the American Revolution in one of them. Bloody Americans," It had shocked him when he saw that particular scene the first time. Were Americans that egotistical about themselves?

"Wrong special, Dad! That's the one where they save New Years" Alfred corrected without having his eyes leave the TV.

"How does one save New Years?" Ivan asked, perplexed.

"No, they saved the baby."

"What baby?"

"Happy!"

"Why did you just yell out an emotion?"

"No! Ug, never mind. We'll watch that one after."

"Will you guys shut up? Hes going to misfit island." Gilbert growled, the show being much less annoying than the conversation. The room returned to silence and Arthur left the boys to their devices. He thought it was adorable that Alfred and Matthew (mostly Alfred) still enjoyed watching those specials as much as they did when they were little.

He still remembered their first Christmas when Alfred had asked him if Rudolph would be ok and if he would get friends.

_"Of course he does Alfred. In fact, he ends up being the hero." Arthur assured the little boy looking at him worriedly from his lap._

_ "Does that mean we'll be ok in the end too?" He asked sadly, playing with his shirt with a frown. Arthur blinked and tilted his head at the blond._

_ "What do you mean Alfred?"_

_ "Everyone hates us here 'cause we're different. So, we'll we be ok in the end, will we get friends and stuff?" He explained, squirming closer to his father in his insecurity. _

_ Arthur felt absolutely horrible in that moment and made a mental note to search even harder for a new home. For now he only comforted the boy with a warm hug and soft words, "We'll be ok soon Alfred, you will see. We'll be happy again."_

_ "Will I be a hero like Rudolph?"_

_ "You're already a hero."_

"What are you reminiscing about Arthur?" Francis broke through his thoughts, limping over to his frowning husband. Arthur lifted his head and scowled at the other.

"Why are you down here? You are suppose to be resting, bloody git."

"And leave my family to fend against your cooking? Never." The Frenchman teased with a mischievous smile. He peered into the neighboring room to see two more teens than he expected.

"Are they staying for dinner, as well?" He asked, if so he'd have to make more food. Oh, maybe he could make a nice big dinner again! It had been a while and he surely missed doing so.

"I'm not sure..." Arthur frowned, what time was it anyway? A quick glance at the clock assured him it was only around two.

"Oh! Arthur we should invite Ludwig, Feliciano and Toris! Wouldn't it be nice to have another dinner party?" He really missed cooking for so many people. It was one of his favorite pass times and he'd be damned if a minor injury kept him from his kitchen.

"You're suppose to be resting! And its such short notice..."

"But Arthur, it has been so long! When was the last time we had the Beilschmidts over? Especially now that Matthieu is dating Gilbert!" Francis insisted in whiny pity filled tone.

Arthur frowned but sighed in defeat,

"I'll go make some calls."

* * *

I'M BACK!

Sorry for the longer wait than expected. During my vacation I had aboslutely no time to write. When i got back (i had missed like a week of school) I had all this work to catch up on! And Midterms are this week! Gah!

But I'm back and Clinging will follow its normal schedule of updating every Sunday. Sentenced will be updated hopefully this weekend because i feel bad about it.  
Thank you guys so much for all the love and reviews! You're all such amazing readers.

And thanks for pointing out my 'reefs' mistake. That's embarrassing. Here's some advice, never edit a chapter while packing for twenty day trip that leaves tomorrow morning. Things don't go well.

I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and aren't sick of Christmas. :)

Next chapter is another fun dinner party and Feli is going to be there! Yay!

You guys are amazing and I hope you're all still enjoying this story as much as I am writing it. Wish me luck in my exams, and I wish luck to anyone also taking them!

See ya next week!


	29. Chapter 28

"Ciao!" The little red headed greeted as he bounced into the room excitedly followed by a much less enthusiastic blond. "Thank you for inviting us!"

"You're always welcome Feliciano, Ludwig." Arthur responded politely with a smile, stepping aside for them to come in. They were a little early, Alfred and the others had yet to clean up the mess in the living room or change. Hopefully they were doing that right now like he had asked. "Francis is in the kitchen." He explained, hoping his guests would go there so he could yell at his son. Fortunately, the Italian took the bait and hurried toward the kitchen with his boyfriend close behind, mostly from fear of Feliciano breaking something.

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief before storming into the living room where Matthew was frantically putting the finishing touches on all the decorations. Gilbert helped stack the boxes out of sight like good little boy (Matt had promised him a _reward_ if he behaved, and the sultry tone made it easy to comply.) Alfred and Ivan were no where to be found. At least they were doing what he told them.

"Where are they?" He asked Matthew who paused in his work to turn to him.

"They are getting dressed. They should be down soon." Matthew answered. Their father had ordered them to change out of their comfortable clothing and into a more formal attire for the occasion. They also had to lend the other two teenagers some clothing and Ivan's size was proving to be a problem. It was most likely the reason his brother was taking so long. This wasn't good, Arthur always became stressed when they had people over and a stressed Arthur meant an easily angered Arthur.

* * *

Alfred was digging through his closet, his nice black dress pants on and his buttoned up shirt open as he searched for a bigger shirt. They had decided Ivan's pants were fine but his shirt needed to be changed.

Ivan sat on the bed patiently, enjoying the red frustrated face Alfred was wearing, along with the toned chest he was able to drink up. Alfred hadn't noticed his disheveled look, too focused on his quest to actually button up his shirt yet.

"Fuck! Why are you so huge?" He cursed, finally pulling out another button up shirt. It was a pale lavender and slightly bigger than his others. Hopefully it would fit the giant. "Take off your shirt." He ordered.

Ivan hesitated and staid still, much to Alfred's confusion. "Let me change in the bathroom."

"Why? Come on! We don't have time! Dad's already pissed." Alfred insisted, coming forward to pull at the others long sleeved shirt. Ivan resisted but soon decided to just let him, as long as he didn't see his back. "Who knew you would be self conscious." Alfred muttered mostly to himself as he grabbed the shirt he had dropped on the floor.

The door flew open revealing an irate looking Englishman. "We're working on it Dad!" Alfred snapped and Arthur huffed out a "They are already her so hurry the bloody hell up" before closing the door. Feliciano and Ludwig were their only guests, Toris said he couldn't make it because of some issue with his work. Alfred grumbled under his breath and looked up, his eyes widening. Ivan had turned at the sound of the door opening and Alfred now had a view of the others bare back.

Suddenly, he remembered the nurses office all those weeks ago when the others shirt rode up revealing what seemed like a multitude of scars.

Well, now it was a concrete fact.

Alfred gasped at the sight of the crisscrossing lines. Some were faint, others distinct. Some were long and ugly. He shuddered. Ivan whirled around at the sound of the sharp intake of breath and quickly scooted back until he rested against the headboard. His heartbeat accelerated and he watched for any sort of reaction from the American. What if he didn't want to be near him now? What if he started asking question? This was exactly why he should have changed in the bathroom.

"Holy shit..." Alfred finally breathed out, coming closer tentatively. He stopped when Ivan visibly flinched, squeezing his eyes shut. Shit, he was started to speak Russian in a quiet rushed tone, just like in the bathroom. "I'm not gonna hurt you! Shit man, what happened?" Who would do something like that?

Ivan took a deep steadying breath before gazing up into concerned blue. "Nothing. It is nothing. We should hurry or you're English father will be angered." He attempted to reason.

"Nothing? That is the complete opposite of nothing! Who did that? Who fucking did that to you?" Alfred was getting angry. His protective heroic nature surfacing at the thought of someone hurting his Ivan like that. Who the hell would even dare do something so horrible? Wait a minute, _his _Ivan?

"It is alright Alfred. I am fine. Lets get dressed." Ivan reiterated, a desperate attempt to continue as if nothing had happened. As if Alfred hadn't really scene the legacies of his past, etched forever in his skin.

"Its not fine! I'll kill whoever did that to you!" Alfred snarled, wanting to move closer. Wanting to do _something. _Those scars... This was the 21st century right? How could this happen? Who would do that...

"He is already dead." Ivan replied grimly, drawing his knees closer to his chest in a way to shield himself. "I do not want to talk about this. I will not talk about this. Not now. Let us go to dinner."

"Ivan. I—Shit man!" What was he supposed to do? Should he comfort him? But Ivan seemed to be pretty closed up on the whole issue. Fuck, he needed to know what happened to him! Yet, the Russian was right. They needed to get to the dinner before his dad mauled them. "Alright, we're going to dinner. But we are going to fucking talk about this! You understand me? I—I—God, Ivan your back..." He faltered because fuck, if there was one thing Alfred couldn't stand was when someone he loved got hurt. Especially when he was powerless to help. That scar...it reminded him of his dad's.

"I know it is frightening, you do not have to remind me." Ivan snapped, feeling self conscious. He grabbed the shirt, slipping it on with shaky hands. He didn't need this right now, he needed to get dressed and calm down. Most importantly to calm down and quiet the voices. His hands stilled when the others warm fingers laid upon them. Violet eyes looked up to see the American's worried face.

"Its not frightening, Ivan. You're not frightening, ok? I'm just shocked and angry at whoever did that." The American reassured, giving the other a sweet kiss before helping button up the shirt. It was a little tight but would have to do. Alfred pulled away and buttoned up his own shirt with a frown. He just couldn't wrap his head around the fact that someone would do something so horrible to his Russian. He stood up and turned back to see Ivan beside him, wearing his scarf once more.

"You're going to wear your scarf?"

"Da."

"But Ivan, Dad wil-"

"I am wearing my scarf." He said sternly and with finality. Alfred sighed but nodded as the Russian lead the way out of his room. He stared at the others back, shivering at what lay beneath the lavender fabric. How many times had he stared at him without ever knowing? What else was Ivan hiding from him?

* * *

"Feli!" Francis greeted, hugging the Italian in a child friendly way. He would have copped a feel at the others cute bottom if Ludwig wasn't watching him like a hawk. His ex-boss could be so frightening sometimes! How the little red head handled him was beyond him. "Would you like to help with the pasta?"

"Of course!" Feliciano giggled, shooing his boyfriend out of the kitchen. Ludwig sighed before making his way to the living room, the room Arthur had gone in after sending them to see his husband.

"Hey West!" Gilbert greeted from the couch with a cocky grin. He had finished cleaning up and was waiting for his rightful reward. Matthew, though, had to put a few things away quickly beforehand and had left him alone in the room.

"Must you call me that, Gilbert?" The blond sighed.

"Its an awesome nickname, thought up by the awesome me." The albino reasoned.

"Its the word you picked up when your mother went on that business trip."

Gilbert frowned, fidgeting with his shirt a little. "Well, maybe that's when I learned the word but that's not why I use it." He muttered, getting uncharacteristically quiet at the mention of his mother. It was no secret that it was touchy subject in the Beilschmidt household. "Its 'cause you and Grandpa are from West Germany so I thought I could call you West. And I'm from Prussia which makes me East..."

Ludwig softened, deciding not to bring up the fact that the other was not, in fact, Prussian at all and instead just patted his shoulder. "Do you think she..." Gilbert faltered and stared at the ground, his father sighed grimly.

"I'm going to go make sure Feliciano isn't breaking some plates." Ludwig notified and Gilbert snorted as the other left him for the kitchen.

"Gilbert?" Matthew spoke up and the albino lifted his head. When had he gotten here? Or had he been here the whole time?

"Hey Matt." He greeted with a smirk that didn't reach his eyes as he made room for his boyfriend on the couch. Matthew accepted the offer, sitting beside him with a worried frown.

"What were you going to ask?"

"It was nothing..." He brushed off, glaring at the floor once more. Matthew smiled weakly, leaning down to give him a reassuring peck on the cheek.

"You can ask me anything, ok Gil?"

"Yeah..Thanks. But not right now." Gilbert answered, straightening up as Alfred and Ivan entered the room. "Sheesh, what were you two doing that took you so long?" He asked loudly with a raise of his eyebrow. Matthew sighed quietly as the Prussian returned to his usual cocky self in front of others. Still, he could see a slight melancholy in the unique red eyes he loved so much.

"Shut up Gil. We weren't doing anything." Alfred snapped, his cheeks lightly dusting pink at the implications of what his friend had said. Still, his mind was too focused on his recent discovery to really be bothered with the obnoxious teen. Fortunately, Ivan sent Gilbert a warning glance that quieted the others cackling.

"Alfie! Mattie!" Feliciano cried out happily as he came into the room. The Bonnefoy twins turned at the sound and smiled.

"Hey Feli." They said simultaneously, eliciting a giggle from the Italian. He enveloped Alfred in a hug followed by Matthew.

"You two are so adorable when you speak at the same time! Lovino and I used to do the same but now he can be so difficult, mi fratello." He sighed though his dopey smile remained on his shining face. That is, until he felt the threatening aura coming from the fourth individual in the room. The twins blushed slightly at the compliment even though such a comment was expected from the bubbly Italian.

Ivan smirked darkly at the the stranger, not enjoying in the least how the other made his American blush. Alfred, oblivious as always quickly introduced them. "Oh! This is Ivan, our classmate. Ivan, Feliciano. Feliciano, Ivan."

"Erm, n-nice to meet you Ivan." The Italian quickly stammered. Ivan didn't reply, merely nodded coldly. Feliciano excused himself soon after, calling shakily for his boyfriend before attaching himself to his arm. What a scary boy!

"Hey, stop being so creepy. You're scaring Feli." Gilbert snapped, crossing his arms angrily. Feliciano was awesome and shouldn't have to be scared by some creepy Freak from Russia, or at least not when he was around. Ivan was about to make some sort of remark when Alfred grabbed his arm as a warning. Ivan's smile tilted downward but he obeyed nonetheless.

"Dinner is ready!" Francis called, alerting everyone to take their seats at the table. Arthur sat at the head, beside him was Gilbert who was none to happy at not being able to sit beside his cute little (even though he was taller than him) boyfriend. Ludwig sat beside the albino and his own boyfriend. Across from Gilbert, Matthew sat next to his twin. Ivan sat in front of Feliciano (much to the Italian's dismay) and beside Alfred. The chair at the other head of the table remained empty as Francis brought in the last of the food. "Alright, dig in!"

Alfred didn't need to be told twice as he quickly started shoving food onto his plate, only slowing when Arthur scolded him angrily. Ivan frowned slightly at that, giving the Englishman a glare that the other didn't notice, too busy snapping at his husband.

"Ve Francis! The food is delicious!" Feliciano complimented and Francis grinned broadly. Oh how he loved to be praised for his food, something his husband lacked in doing. He attributed the fact to his jealousy of his superior cooking skills.

"Ah Merci, Feliciano. Please, eat as much as you want." He was so very happy that they had become friends. They had first met on Arthur's and his first date, Feliciano being the waiter at the Italian restaurant his grandfather owned. The red head had felt horrible about ruining their date and had sought them out at work (Francis had left his business card because the waiter had a delicious little rump). And ever since then they had become good friends.

It was also the same time when Feliciano first saw Ludwig at Francis' and Arthur's workplace, and fell in love. Francis even introduced them to each other, though, the Italian was shaking with nervousness and slight fear. Ludwig had been even more terrifying at the time, being in the middle of a divorce and trying to raise his little boy adding to his stress.

Feliciano, persistent as ever, slowly wormed his way into Ludwig's soft spot, offering his condolences and advice. Things went even better as he began offering to help babysit little Gilbert when Ludwig had to work late, which was fairly often. He and the one year old soon became quite attached to each other and Ludwig grew fonder of the little annoyance.

Francis always took pride in the relationship, bragging to Arthur about his skills as a matchmaker. Of course, these remarks were usually followed by a 'shut up frog' and a glare.

The group continued to eat, small talk flowing about the room. Ivan picked at his food, trying to keep his emotions under control. He felt slightly trapped because he knew Alfred would pester him all night about his past. He didn't want to tell him. He truly did not want to tell him how horrible he really was because surely Alfred would hate him and leave him. What would he do then?

"Dude, whats wrong?" Alfred whispered, looking at him as he ate.

"Nothing." Ivan answered, giving the other a fake smile and taking another bite of his dish. As he brought his fork to his lips he was reminded that he was wearing the others shirt. Curiously, he brought his sleeve closer and inhaled its scent.

"What are you doing?" Alfred asked incredulously. The guy looked crazy, just sniffing his shirt during dinner. What was wrong with him?

"It smells like you." Ivan responded with a smirk as he turned his hard gaze to the others surprised face. Alfred blushed and stabbed at his food.

"Don't say such creepy things like that." He muttered. "Its weird as hell." He turned back to the main conversation, trying to ignore the creepiness that was sitting next to him.

"-no, I get it! Ludwig can be the same way!" Feliciano responded easily even as the German sent him a death glare. Wait, what were they talking about? He hadn't been paying attention, too focused on Ivan and his problems...

"Oui, I use handcuffs sometimes with Arthur. He won't admit it but he secretly loves a little bondage. Right, cher?" Wait, what the hell had he missed? When did the conversation take a turn down pervy lane? Holy shit who let Papa change the subject to this!

"FRANCIS! Shut the bloody hell up!" Arthur ordered, his face flushing in mortification. Why was his husband so freely speaking about this in front of their previous boss? And the children for God sake!

"Oh, Luddy loves bondage! He has all these DVDs and he has a box in his closet full of handcuffs and whips and toys—." Feliciano quickly agreed, only stopping when a large hand covered his mouth. The stoic German was beginning to turn red, hating how his boyfriend could be so honest. No one needed to know that! Had he any decency?

"Really? See Arthur! Its nothing strange. Other people do it as well." Francis pointed out. Usually when he tried to do something Arthur accused him of being a pervert but this proved that he wasn't the only one who enjoyed having fun in bed.

"I WILL STAB YOU IN THE FACE!" Arthur cried, holding his face in his hands to shield his last scraps of dignity. This always happened. When would he learn? He was going to kill Francis, for real this time!

"Bondage is sex when one partner is restrained, correct?" Ivan whispered to Alfred for conformation. So, many couples did it? Fascinating, he'd have to try it with Alfred at some point. It would be so interesting to have the vibrant free American helpless in his grasp. It made him excited at the very thought, if only their relationship was at that level already... Still, they had been progressing quite nicely. Hopefully, soon they would be able to consummate it.

"Don't say such embarrassing things! And yeah that's what it is. God I hope they change the subject."

"Why? This is very educational."

"Educational? What the hell did I say! Never listen to Papa!" Alfred reminded, his face getting redder.

"But what about the Italian one."

"No! Don't listen to anyone! You'll get the wrong idea."

"Then how do I know when we can advance our relationship?" Ivan snapped in frustration. He'd much rather be listening to the adult conversation than Alfred's demands. He could be learning!

"When... When I say so! Why are you so obsessed with sex!" Alfred hissed, his voice getting louder without him realizing.

"Because then we will be bonded in the most personal way. You will be mine and I will be yours. And you will never be able to leave me." _I wont ever be alone again._

Alfred softened slightly, "Look Ivan, I don't even know anything about you! How am I suppose to... to do anything like that when you won't even tell me anything?"

"Why does this always turn back to my past! It is none of your business Bonnefoy!" Ivan snarled, his nerves racing. His past had been brought up way to many times this day for him to be comfortable. The voices were getting louder.

"It is so my business! I have a right to know about what happened to you!" Alfred shouted back as the table quieted around him. He didn't pay them any attention, too focused on his growing anger with the other.

"If I do not want to disclose it then I will not!"

"God, why are you so fuckin—"

"Alfred!" Arthur interrupted furiously, the cursing being the last straw to this completely inappropriate outburst. Had his boy gone mad? They had company!

"I didn't do anything!" Alfred snapped automatically, whirling around to face his father. He was fucking angry and he didn't want to deal with him right now.

"Don't raise your voice at me! Now be quiet and eat like a civilized human being." He demanded, eying his son with a harsh glare.

"Stop making fun of me! I'm not an idiot!"

"I didn't say that! Don't you ever listen? Boy, shut up and eat."

Alfred sent him a glare before scooting his chair back angrily, the noise of it scraping across the ground deafening in the tense silence. He stomped off, climbing up the stairs and slamming his door shut as loud as he could. Arthur let out a deep sigh as the table sat there in silence.

"I..I should go talk to him." Matthew murmured, going to stand up when Arthur laid a hand on his arm, stopping him.

"Don't. Stay and eat. If he wishes to act like a spoiled child, let him." He said his tone exhausted but stern. He couldn't believe Alfred would act this way in front of company. He had tried so hard to raise a proper gentleman.

Matthew bit his lip but did as he was told, sitting back down as conversation slowly returned. Ivan shot the Englishman a cold glare. He had no right to yell at Alfred that way. Half of the problem was his own fault. He was an absolute horrible father he finally decided, something he should correct. Shouldn't he go up and apologize? He should at least let Matvey go.

"Ivan." A voice whispered and he turned his head to see Matthew looking at him pleadingly. "Go check on Alfred. Dad will probably let you go if you just leave." There was worry in his eyes and Ivan nodded. Putting his fork down, he left the room without a word as Francis began speaking of some sexual exploit of his. He didn't care to listen anymore.

He ascended the stairs and walked over to Alfred's closed door. Without knocking he opened it, finding the blond sprawled on his bed, hugging a pillow to his chest.

"Mattie?" Alfred asked pathetically, hopefully, lifting his head. His brother always comforted him after he and his father had a fight. He always made everything better.

"Nyet." Alfred blinked and didn't look up, burying his face in the pillow. It wasn't Mattie. It was Ivan.

"Why are you here?"

"You're English father would not let Matvey leave." Ivan responded truthfully, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

"He can be such a dick." Alfred spat, his arms clenching the pillow tighter.

"You fight a lot."

"He's disappointed in me. I think he thinks I'm a failure." Alfred mumbled into his pillow, he wanted a hug. Usually Mattie knew to give him one but Ivan didn't. He didn't really want to ask because it would be even more pathetic. God, he hated it when he felt this way. Whenever he fought with Dad he always felt like shit, not that the old man would ever notice...not that he would ever care.

Ivan frowned, coming closer to the moping blond. "I do not believe you are a failure."

Alfred snorted, "Thanks." It didn't alleviate his mood.

"Why is that not enough?" Because it should be enough. His opinion should matter above everyone else's.

"Because he's my dad, Ivan. I want him to be proud of me and he never is." He hissed, shielding his eyes with his pillow because fuck they were getting watery. "Didn't you ever feel that way?" Then again... Ivan had made pretty clear that he only harbored negative feelings toward his father.

"I would never had wanted to make him proud." Ivan spat, shivering at even the thought. Why had the conversation suddenly turned to this. Didn't Alfred understand he did not want to talk about this at all?

Alfred sat up slightly, "Well, isn't there anyone you want to be proud of you?"

Ivan paused and his eyes softened as he thought of his lost siblings, "Katyusha, my elder sister." She was the main reason he was here, she was the reason he tried in school.

"Well, there you go. It... It just hurts when all he does is complain about me or tell me I'm doing something wrong... I'm being such a girl right now." He laughed humorlessly, staring at the pillow in his lap. Whoever knew he'd be talking about such personal stuff with Ivan of all people?

Ivan wasn't the best comforter. Katyusha had been in charge of that. Whenever he was sad, she would hold him tightly to her chest, say it would be all right and kiss him on his forehead.

God he missed his sisters.

Alfred felt his head being tilted up by the others gloved hand and he stared into those violet eyes full of secrets. Secrets the other seemed intent to keep from him. When Ivan kissed him, he kissed back eagerly, almost desperately. He looped his arms around the others neck, pulling him closer.

Ivan grinned inwardly in happiness at how responsive Alfred had become. How he willingly opened his mouth to accommodate his tongue and eagerly battled with his own. The feeling was absolutely wonderful.

They parted for breath, but it was short as Alfred dived back in for more. His glasses were pushed up painfully between them so Ivan rectified the problem by placing them on the night stand beside them. Alfred looked so much younger without his glasses, so much more innocent. His blue eyes shone without anything to hinder their light.

Alfred finally pulled away, his cheeks flushed and his lips slick with saliva. "I don't want to do anything sexual." He stated firmly, if not breathlessly. "Not until you tell me why you are afraid of blood. Why you have so many scars on your back. Why you left your sisters in Russia. Why you hate your father."

Ivan stared into those deep, concerned, trusting blue eyes and closed his own. He licked his suddenly dry lips, his whole body tensing. He flinched when he felt something on his cheek and he opened his eyes. The same light blue stared up at him, a hand reaching up to brush some of his pale blond hair away from his dark violet eyes.

"Please, tell me." He whispered pleadingly and for some reason, the words fell out of Ivan's mouth before he could stop them. Words he had never had the courage to utter nor to accept. They fell into a jumbled heap before him, landing heavily on the others chest below him. It was too late to stuff them back in as they both stared at the confession with wide eyes.

"I killed Father."

* * *

Ooh, I think I got chills! Lol

Next chapter... Well you can probably guess what Ivan's going to have to do now! Alfred's finally going to know! Its so exciting, or at least, for me it is.

Did I mention that you guys are amazing? I mean more than 600 reviews! I could never have imagined! You guys are way too nice to me.  
I really hope this chapter is good enough for you guys! Sometimes I feel inadequate... It astounds so many people are actually enjoying this story. This story that came to me in a weird ass dream over the summer and slowly turned into this!  
A story thats constantly evolving into something more complex as I write it, though I know how it will eventually end.  
Anyway, I just want to thank you all again for sticking with me and keeping me motivated.

See you next week.


	30. Chapter 29

Ivan tensed immediately as the three seemingly simple words fell out of his mouth. He was stock still though his mind was racing. He said it. He finally said it. Why had he said it? How could he have just said it! Alfred was still as well, feeling unreal. The teen had to be joking, had to be tricking him.

He wasn't.

As the silence dragged on and Ivan didn't refute his statement, Alfred began to reel. Was he serious? Was he really serious? His heart began to beat erratically and he tried to sit up. Ivan obliged him, scooting away from him as quickly as he could, fearing if they touched he would hurt him somehow. Violet eyes stared at the blond's every movement.

"Y-you killed him?" Alfred finally whispered, the words foreign to his mouth. They left a bitter taste in the back of his throat.

"D-da."

And the world turned completely upside down. It was so unreal. Ivan had killed someone. Killed. Murdered. Taken someones life. Alfred took a deep raggedy breath as his heart started ramming against his ribcage. How? He didn't know how to react at all. It took him a minute to realize that he already was, chanting a quiet desperate, "Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God!"

Ivan didn't say anything as he stared at him nervously. What had he done? Why had he told him? He wanted to take the words back but he had no idea how. The damage was done.

"Y-you killed someone...Oh my god...You killed some—!" He almost exclaimed but Ivan covered his mouth quickly out of fear of being heard. He did not want anyone else to know about this. He didn't even want Ivan to know but it was too late now.

Alfred pulled away frantically, his heart was racing and fear was growing withing him. The Russian looked at him desperately, removing his hand due to the others struggles. "Please, Alfred..." He begged, hoping the other would at least quiet down. Perhaps let him explain.

"You fucking killed someone!" Alfred hissed back, his blue eyes wide. The realization hit that he was sitting in front of a murderer... Suddenly, he began to fear for himself and he looked at Ivan with growing alarm. Ivan noticed and panicked.

"No! Please, please don't be afraid! I-i...Please!" Ivan hurried out, grabbing the others arm to keep him close. _Don't leave me. I don't want to be alone again. Please._

Alfred thrashed once more, heart thumping noisily against his ribcage as he pulled at his arm. "Let go! You're a murderer!" He snapped out with a tremor of fear, no longer trusting the hand that had minutes before caressed his face. His own hand was immediately freed and he held it against his chest as he stared at the taller teen.

Ivan trembled, retracting into himself from were he sat on the edge of the bed. It was true. He was a murderer. Why would Alfred even care for someone so horrible? "Y-you are right." He murmured brokenly, "I am a murderer..." Then his mumbles faded into unintelligible Russian as he closed himself further up. Shielded himself from others and the world. He should of listened to his brain. Others only caused him pain and misery, he should have stayed clear of the American from the beginning.

Alfred swallowed nervously, the scene reminding him of the event in the bathroom. He should get out. He should run away and call the police. He should tell his dad, he should tell someone! But, against all instinct and much like the time in the bathroom, he stayed. He couldn't find the heart to leave Ivan looking so broken on his bed, especially now that he harbored feelings for him.

Taking in a steadying breath he moved closer to the Russian, "Ivan?" He whispered tentatively. Ivan's head snapped up, startled, having been buried in his arms. He almost lost his balance on the bed from the sudden action. Fortunately, Alfred steadied him instinctively, before retracting his hands as if he had touched fire, or in Ivan's case, ice.

Violet eyes blinked at him in confusion and Alfred leaned back to grab his glasses from the night table. "Just...Just tell me what happened." He murmured, placing them on his nose so he could see the other more clearly. He was always cursed with curiosity.

"I...Let me start at the beginning..." Ivan spoke up quietly and hesitantly. Blue eyes gazed at him intently and he knew that his entire future with the other depended on this explanation. He took a deep breath before recounting his tale of hardship, trying to remain as strong as he possibly could. He would not show weakness, he would not cry.

"Father and Mother were never on very good terms... Father drank a lot and we never had much money. Our home was old and beginning to fall apart though Mother tried her best to keep it together. I don't remember much else of her because she died when I was five while giving birth to Natalia..." He paused a moment, his hands fidgeting with the bed sheets. His eyes remained downcast, unable to meet the steady blue gaze.

"Ivan!" Came a loud British cry that startled them both, "You'll be staying over night." Alfred yelled out a response before quickly turning back to the Russian. Why did his Dad have to interrupt at the worst time possible?

"After she died, Father drank more and came home angrier. More money went to his drinking than to food. We didn't have heat, our clothes were never warm enough. It was always so cold..." He shivered slightly, "Father began to beat my sister and I. Not Natalia, we made sure of that. He mostly beat me..."

"Is he the one that whipped you?" Alfred couldn't help but interupt. His anger surfacing once more.

"Nyet..." Ivan responded quickly, though his father had contributed to some of the scars on his body.

"One day when I was nine Father came home and began to harass Katyusha..." He gritted his teeth at the memory, his hands fisting the sheets. "Katyusha... She resembled Mother... They had the same face, the same eyes... When Father came home that day, he had drunk significantly more than usual and he..." Ivan closed his eyes, willing the memories to leave him. "She was fourteen and he started to touch her." He spat in disgust.

Alfred's eyes widened as he put two and two together, "You don't mean...?" It was just too sickening, too horrible.

"Da. I did not know at the time but he was trying to rape my sister." He hissed in utter repulsion, his hands clenching until he was certain his knuckles were white beneath his black gloves. "She was crying and screaming and...and I had to do something. I took a pipe and I—" He faltered, those eyes glaring at him from within his own mind. Why couldn't he just leave him alone? Why did he have to torment him constantly?

"You killed him." Alfred finished for him in a quiet whisper. The pain evident in Ivan's voice along with his frequent pauses showed him how difficult it was for him to recount his past. He needed to know though.

"D-da... We were put into an orphanage. It was poor and understaffed. Most children died there. Katyusha took care of us...Then they forced her to leave." He blinked furiously, he would not get emotional now. Not in front of Alfred. And couldn't the voices quiet for just once? It felt like they was screaming at him from within his skull. He took a breath in order to calm down.

"Why would they make her leave?" Alfred urged on, battling with whether he should hug the other. He didn't. He couldn't. The idea that he had killed someone was still too unreal, too horrible for him to surpass.

"Because she was 17 and they had a rule saying she had to go." He hissed. "I haven't seen her since..." He touched his scarf, smiling softly for the first time in his story, "She gave me this before she left."

Alfred bit his lip as the full sentimental importance over the piece of fabric weighed down on him. How could he have torn it? Forced him to give it up for a day? He was such an asshole. But... But Ivan had killed someone. He had killed someone. The simple fact replayed in his mind non stop as he tried to fight it back with what Ivan was explaining.

"She always instructed me to do well in school and to continue learning English. After she left I continued to do so. This angered Mr. Winter... He was the administrator of the orphanage." He explained hastily, "Most children died there but those who did survive went on to be drug dealers and prostitutes. He didn't like that I was actually trying to make myself better.

"He started to whip me."

"He's the bastard." Alfred interrupted without thinking, his eyes glaring at nothing. How dare he do that to Ivan's back!

"After three years, I killed him."

Alfred's eyes widened and he stared at him, "Y-you killed him too? Oh my god, oh my god." Two people. He had killed two people. Sure they were horrible people but...he killed them. Didn't that make him horrible as well?

"D-da... Toris came to the orphanage asking to adopt me and the staff readily agreed. They wanted to get rid of me. I only agreed because he had a letter from my sister... Natalia is still in the orphanage." He added sadly, hoping she was alright. He hesitated a moment before more words slipped from his mouth.

"Каждую ночь я вижу их во сне. Людей, которых я убил, людей, которых я больно, сестры я оставил позади." _(Every night I see them in my dreams. The people I have killed, the people I have hurt, the sisters I left behind.) _He confessed in Russian, shielding his eyes with his bangs as he looked down at the bed and waited.

Alfred was silent. He stared at Ivan who fidgeted under his gaze. What was he suppose to say now? That it was ok? Because it wasn't... Killing people wasn't ok. Raping people and whipping wasn't ok either...

He was so very confused and shocked. He wondered if this was what Ivan had to go through every day. These conflicting feelings of what was right and what was wrong.

"Alfred?" Ivan couldn't stand the uncharacteristic silence from the other. He must hate him now. How could he not?

"...I don't know what to say..." Alfred mumbled honestly, many thoughts clogging up his mind. He didn't know what to do. "I think... I think you should sleep in the guest bedroom."

And all hope evaporated from Ivan's eyes. Alfred didn't want him to be near him. He would have probably made him leave if he wasn't staying for the night. How could he tell him? He should have lied or said no. He had ruined everything.

Ivan nodded numbly, his violet eyes frosted over as he slipped off the edge of the bed. He left the room, his measured steps quickening as he neared the guest room. He pulled the door open with a shaky hand, closing it shut before sliding down into a crumpled heap. It was over.

Alfred knew everything. Alfred hated him. He would never speak to him or fight with him again. He was gone. Just like everything else he ever cared for.

What was the point now?

He brought his knees up to his chest, hiding his face behind them. What would he do now? Why was he even here? No one would give him a second thought if he just left. He wanted his sisters now more than ever.

"I want to go home." He whispered to no one.

He wasn't sure where that was anymore.

* * *

Matthew leaned down to place the plate into the crowded dishwasher while shooing away Gilbert's wandering hands. Didn't he realize their parents were in the other room?

"Come on Matt... Just a little kiss." The albino urged, wrapping his arms tightly around the others waist.

"Stop it. I'm not in the mood right now, Gil." Matthew sighed, turning around and crossing his arms. He had more important things on his mind at the moment.

"You're brothers just being a drama queen. Let him be." Gilbert snapped and Matthew glared at him even if the statement was half true.

"Dad and him have some problems, ok. I..I wish he would let me check on him..." Matthew sighed, worrying his bottom lip. Really, Alfred was probably waiting for him but Arthur was in one of his punishing moods.

"You can check on him later, after I leave. Which will be soon by the way." Gilbert reminded with annoyance prevalent in his voice. Seriously, it was totally unawesome that he was being denied.

Matthew rolled his eyes, giving him a sweet peck on the lips before pulling away. "Happy?"

"You're so mean." Gilbert pouted before a devilish idea came to his naughty mind.

In the other room, Feliciano and Francis were sitting together on the couch while Arthur and Ludwig spoke of trivial things. Their talk was only interrupted when the phone rang, Toris asking if Ivan could stay the night because he would not be returning home until very late. Arthur agreed, notified his son before going back to his conversation with German. Francis paid them no mind, looking at his friend intently.

"Feli, is there something the matter? You seem a little gloomy..."

"Ve... I am just a little jealous." The Italian admitted shyly, casting his brown gaze to the carpet. Francis blinked at the confession, tilting his head. He was jealous of him? Why? The whole night had been spent fighting with Arthur, Arthur fighting with their sons, one son storming upstairs and then more of him fighting with Arthur. Now, he loved Arthur and therefore could put up with his behavior but why would anyone else be jealous of it?

"It must be so nice to be married." Feliciano sighed sadly, looking fondly at the tall blond who was listening to something the British man was saying. Francis eyes softened, placing a comforting hand on the others thigh that most people would have seen as romantic but the redhead knew it was purely platonic.

"The proposition will be voted on again in a year... When it is overturned you can marry him in a heartbeat!" Francis reassured. Feliciano was always so positive, but this subject could make the smiling redhead frown in seconds.

"You are so lucky Francis! You married Arthur before they overturned it... Its been twelve years and it hasn't been changed." He whined, an adorable little frown painted on his face.

"You and Ludwig live together and our faithful. It is almost as if you are married." Francis reminded in an attempt to cheer his friend up. It didn't seem to be working.

"But we're not. And it makes me... It makes me feel dirty." He pouted and Francis sighed, bringing the Italian closer to himself. He knew Feliciano was a very religious Catholic, only really disagreeing with the Church on the aspects of homosexuality. Other sinful acts, including premarital sex, though, had been hammered into him since childhood. It still made him feel guilty that he was actively sinning since he agreed with the Church on that point.

Francis, himself, was technically Catholic though most would cringe at his sinful record. Still, he went to church on Easter and Christmas, thinking that to be enough. It was better than his husband who had been Catholic then Protestant and then denounced all religion in favor of 'reason'.

"The law will be turned over soon, Feli, you shall see. Then you can have the wedding of your dreams! I'll even bake you're wedding cake; I promise it will look beautiful."

Feliciano cracked a smile, fantasizing of the day that seemed so very far away. "Not an erotic one, right?" Francis chuckled and raised a brow.

"Non, but another cake could be arranged for your wedding night." He mused with a smirk, adding a wink for good measure. Feliciano blushed lightly, letting out and embarrassed giggle. The two blonds conversing looked over at the sound and Arthur immediately became suspicious of his husband's facial expression.

"What are you talking about, frog?" Arthur asked warily. Francis gave him a teasing smile.

"Oh, purely business. We were discuss the erotic section of the bakery." He explained easily.

Arthur's cheeks tinged a bright pink, "I still can't believe you made our bakery have en erotic menu! It's sickening."

"If I recall, you did not complain when I made that cake in the shape of my pe-"

"FRANCIS!" Arthur shrieked, his face no longer pink but a heavy red. Why? Why did his frog find it so easy to speak of such such private details? It wasn't fair that he was forced to marry the damn wino!

"Francis, if that in fact is what you were discussing with Feliciano, will you remove your hand from his thigh?" Ludwig stated sternly. Though, it was more of a command than a statement so Francis quickly obeyed. Arthur sent him death glare when he realized what his husband had been doing. A sudden spark of jealousy grew within him. Francis always did have a soft spot for the air headed Italian. Was he not cute enough?

He didn't just think that.

"Feliciano, it is getting late. We should go." Ludwig continued stiffly, taking his boyfriend's arm in order to pull him off the couch. Feliciano made a little 'eep' noise when he was forced off the couch but followed anyway.

"Gilbert! Time to go." Ludwig called into the kitchen where he assumed his son still was.

"Fuck." Gilbert hissed, pulling his mouth away from Matthew's aching member. Matthew's hands, which had been clenching the kitchen counter, now gripped the albino's light hair. He pushed him back towards his throbbing cock.

"Finish what you started!" Matthew snapped, though it came out more as a beg than an intimidating order. Gilbert gave it a teasing lick before standing up and tucking the other in.

"Well, maybe if you hadn't bitched so much at the beginning I could have finished." He pointed out cockily, giving his boyfriend a long kiss on his beautiful, flushed face.

"Gil..." Matthew whined, his violet blue eyes a shade darker with lust. Gilbert swallowed thickly, wondering if maybe he could continue... But West was probably going to walk in any minute now. He leaned in and gave him another kiss.

"I'll call you when I get home, I'll finish what I started." He added mercifully and Matthew moaned quietly at the implications. Then Gilbert was gone and he was left to catch his breath, unfulfilled and with an embarrassing tent in his pants. How did he get himself into these kinds of situations? He straightened himself up, tugging his shirt down to hide his obvious erection before climbing the stairs as quickly as he could.

He paused at the sight of his brother's door, wondering whether he should go in to comfort him. Though, he didn't think it would be best to walk in with an obvious erection and offer his twin a hug. Plus, he could hear Ivan's voice emanating from the room, they probably didn't want to be disturbed. He would check on his brother once he took care of his problem. Gilbert better follow through on his promise of phone sex.

* * *

"Francis! What the hell!" Arthur snapped, glaring at his husband once their guests left.

"Quoi?" He asked innocently

"Don't 'quoi' me! You were hitting on Feliciano! In front of me!" Arthur retorted.

"I was not hitting on him!" Francis defended. How had he gotten that idea in his head?

"You were telling him about you're—you're prick!" Arthur accused.

"I was not! Why would you ever think that?" Francis asked shocked.

"You said you were speaking about the erotic menu and you had your hands all over him!"

"I did not! Arthur I would never do that to you. My cock is only for you, it was one of my vows remember?"

"I still can't believe you actually said that during our wedding!" Arthur cried, reddening at the memory before returning to the argument at hand. "You were flirting with him like you always do."

"Arthur, are you jealous?" Francis asked with a raised eyebrow and the British man flushed even more.

"I am not. I only wish you had the decency to not flirt in front of me, your husband."

"You know, Arthur, even if I tell Feli he is cute that he could never be as cute as you." Francis stated honestly as he smiles sweetly at him. It was true; his husband was the cutest man in the entire world. Even with those huge monstrous eyebrows. They merely added to his charm.

"I don't want to be cute." Arthur crossed his arms and pouted, making him absolutely adorable.

"Oh of course not, you are handsome. And strong." Francis acquiesced, coming closer to wrap his arms around his pouty Brit. For once the man didn't fight him off.

"I'm stuck with you forever and you're stuck with me. You better bloody remember that." He snapped, and Francis smiled kissing him deeply as an answer. _I know, don't worry._

"Feliciano is feeling gloomy because he can't get married. I was trying to cheer him up." He confessed against those lips.

"It isn't his fault, the proposition will be up again soon." Arthur reasoned, uncrossing his arms in order to wrap them around the other loosely.

"I know, but he is still sad. You know he is jealous of us?"

Arthur snorted at the thought of someone being jealous of his relationship with Francis. The idea seemed quite absurd. The Frenchman pouted and Arthur rolled his eyes, kissing the down turned lips.

"Do you not see what we have? We have been together for sixteen years, isn't that something others should be jealous of?"

"Sixteen... Has it been that long?" Arthur whispered, wondering how he could have staid with the frog for so long.

"Oui, impressive, non?" Francis kissed him again, picking his husband up to place him on the cleaned kitchen table. Arthur let him, deciding to be passive for the moment. "We have been married for twelve years, we have two wonderful teenage boys and a beautiful home. Surely that is something for others to be jealous of." He reiterated and Arthur smiled, leaning down to kiss him instead of answering him.

"You know Francis... You're behaving yourself quite nicely right now..." Arthur mused and Francis chuckled lightly.

"Am I to get a treat?" Francis asked.

"Well it all depends, my mood can change quite quickly. Take me to our bedroom, we'll see what happens." Arthur instructed, allowing the Frenchman to carry him up the stairs because it was a command. As Francis obliged him, he leaned close to his ear, "Get the French maid outfit out." He ordered huskily and his husband's steps increased substantially after hearing those words. Arthur almost never agreed to wear that!

* * *

Alfred stared at the ceiling with a frown. What was he suppose to do? Should he call the cops? Should he tell his parents? Should he keep quiet and pretend nothing happened, that this conversation never happened?

No, he couldn't do any of those. But he had no idea what he_ was_ supposed to do. Never had he been thrown into such a situation. What do you say when your boyfriend tells you he has killed two people? Especially when he seemed to have good reasons to do so and therefore made the act not as horrible as it should be.

Yes, he had just admitted to the fact that Ivan was his boyfriend. That issue no longer seemed so important at the moment and it helped alleviate some of his stress to just accept the fact. He liked Ivan, he like him a lot. He enjoyed kissing him, he still fantasized about him sometimes. He didn't love him, or at least he didn't think so. It was too soon for that.

And the fact that he was a murderer was making him very antsy over the entire subject.

Fuck! What the hell should he do?

"Alfred?"

The blond's head shot up at the quiet voice, his blue eyes locking with a near identical pair. Oh, it was only his brother. Wait, Mattie always knew what to do! Maybe he could help.

"Are you ok? You look awful." Matthew continued as he came closer to the bed. Ivan must have left because he was no longer in the room. Alfred seemed to be very pale, and his face was full of worry. He wondered if something had happened.

"Mattie, what would you do if..." His voice faltered. He couldn't just _tell_ his twin that Ivan had killed people. It was obvious the Russian hadn't even wanted him to know. "If someone you cared for did something horrible, like illegal and horrible, but he did it for a good reason?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well... Like, would you call the cops on him or what? I... I just really need your advice right now." Alfred pleaded and Matthew conceded to the strange request, taking a moment to think.

"I guess... I guess if I cared for them I wouldn't call the cops, especially if they did it for good reasons. Are they still doing it?"

"No...he isn't."

"Well, maybe I'd help him through it? I don't know... Whats this about, Alfred?"

"Help him through it?" He had never thought of that... But how?

"Be his hero." Matthew translated into terms his brother could easily identify with. Alfred's eyes gleamed at the idea, sitting up as he contemplated it further. He liked the ring of that. Ivan seemed to regret killing them, and they had done horrible things... Maybe... Maybe he could help him get through the guilt and stuff...

"Al, whats this all about?" Matthew asked again, frowning at his brother. What was so horrible?

"I.. Mattie I can't lie to you but I can't tell you either. At least, not yet. Just... Just don't ask me ok? I promise I'll tell you everything once I can." He answered honestly, his eyes begging his brother to just accept the vague explanation.

Matthew sighed, "Alright Al." He acquiesced, still feeling lingering guilt from his own secret that had hurt his brother. "Tell me when you're ready." Alfred gave him a smile and hugged him tightly. Matthew smiled as well, pulling back and leaving his brother alone once more. He seemed to want to be alone.

It was getting late, Alfred realized, as he stared at his clock. He didn't feel like sleeping though. His mind was still awake with the possibilities of playing hero. No, not playing but actually being.

He got out of his bed quietly, slipping through the dark hall. His parents must have gone to bed already. Or they were having fun in their room. He grimaced as he passed the master bedroom and heard the noises, at least they were being a little quiet.

"Oh dear Francis, you're so very dirty... I don't know how I'll be able to clean all of you." Not quiet enough, he hissed in head, shivering at the creepy role play his parents were doing. Stop thinking about it.

The guest room was dark when he opened the door, but it wasn't quiet. He could here the bedsheets twisting and a quiet whimpering noise. His eyebrows furrowed at the sound as he stood, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Once he could see outlines he tiptoed toward the lamp, flicking it to its lowest setting and illuminating the sleeping Russian.

Ivan had his eyes closed but not in a peaceful dream induced way. His eyebrows were drawn together and his whole body seemed tense. He kicked and squirmed under the thin sheets. He was taking in ragged breaths and his pale hair was a shade darker where it clung to his neck and forehead from sweat.

He seemed to be having a nightmare.

"Ivan?" Alfred whispered worriedly, poking at the distraught teen. Ivan whimpered and pulled away, drawing himself into a protective ball. Alfred frowned, shaking the other, "Ivan, wake up!"

Violet eyes shot open as Ivan sat up quickly, moving away from the others hands instinctively. He took in a calming breath, staring wide eyed at the concerned American. He opened his mouth to speak before realizing he was about to speak Russian and quickly closed it. He took another deep breath and finally came up with the English equivalent.

"Why are you here?"

"Were you having a nightmare?" Alfred asked, ignoring the question and asking a more important one.

"It's nothing."

"No its not."

"Yes I had a nightmare. It happens every night." Ivan confessed, pulling the sheets toward himself.

Alfred frowned, getting on the bed much to Ivan's surprise. Why would he want to be so close to him now that he knew the truth?

"Look, I... I don't think you're a monster or anything. I'm just kind of in shock." Alfred admitted quietly.

"You... You are not afraid?"

"No." Alfred answered immediately, surprising himself with his certainty. "I'm gonna help."

"Help?"

"Yeah."

"How?"

"Well," he began, pulling back the covers and slipping in beside the Russian. "First, I'm gonna get rid of your nightmares." Now that he knew he had them, he should settle those first.

"How?" Ivan repeated, becoming more confused as Alfred was now right beside him.

"Whenever I had nightmares about the old neighborhood I would sleep in Dad and Papa's bed. I never had nightmares when they were with me." Alfred explained, trying to get comfortable in the bed since between the both of them there wasn't that much room left.

Ivan didn't see the logic in the argument but nodded anyway. "Why would you have nightmares over a neighborhood?" He asked curiously.

"I think we've been through enough today. I'm exhausted. Lets just go to sleep, k?" Alfred answered hurriedly, taking his glasses off and placing them on the nigh stand. He turned over so he could lie on his side.

"Fine... Are we like we were before? Or..or have we regressed?" Ivan was horrible confused and that matter was most importan in his mind. He truly hoped he hadn't ruined everythin.

"We're... We're like before." Alfred decided after a moment, sinking down into his pillow and turning the light off. Ivan remained tense beside him and he decided he needed to make him more relaxed. "You can hug me. Just, nothing sexual." He informed quietly, mostly to his pillow. Still, Ivan must have heard him because he felt the other place his arm around him tentatively. He flinched, his brain reminding him these hands had killed but he quickly pushed those thoughts away and relaxed. He was going to be his hero. He felt Ivan slowly relax beside him as they both fell into a deep restful sleep.

For the first time in a very long time, Ivan did not suffer a nightmare.

* * *

You know what really pisses me off? When firefox decides to crash before you save the chapter you just finished editing. -.-;  
I had to re-edited everything after Gilbert and Mattie and I was frustrated. Hopefully its ok.

Anyway! There ya go, chapter posted and hopefully you guys like it.  
Just want to say this story is still far from being over.. I have realized that this story seems to go into like..10 chapter phases.  
1-10 = Ivan and Alfred hate each other  
10-20= Ivan and Alfred are awkward friends  
20-30 = Ivan and Alfred are awkwardly sort of a couple  
I never meant that to happen.. Lol, now we're in phase four! Alfred tries to be Ivan's hero.

Next chapter Alfred explains his plan to rehabilitate Ivan! Oh poor little Ruski...

I love you all so very much! Thanks for sticking with me, see you next week.  
Send me love notes by reviewing :D

PS: Once this story is closer to being done I'm probably going to write a prequel which will focus on FRUK and GerIta. It'll start with that scene in the office when they first met and probably end with them moving into the 'new neighborhood'. Tell me what you guys think in your reviews of love :)


	31. Chapter 30

I know I'm a horrible person, I apologize. My excuses will be at the bottom because I don't want to keep you from the new chapter any longer.

* * *

Ivan blinked his eyes open slowly, drowsily. He felt so very tired and he didn't feel like moving for the rest of his life. It was so warm and comfortable, the others body pressed against his own. His eyes widened when he realized the implications of that, that there was someone pressed against him. He tensed, violet eyes shifting down only to be met with familiar blond hair.

It was only Alfred.

The Russian relaxed, his eyes slipping closed once more as he let himself enjoy how the American had snuggled up close to him. Why was he in his bed to begin with? He opened his eyes again, staring up at the ceiling and letting his gaze settle on the light above... One that he did not recognize as the light fixture in his room. This was not his room. Where was he?

And then he remembered everything.

He tensed once more, eyes darting fearfully toward the American as he suddenly wished they weren't so close. Shouldn't Alfred hate him? Fear him? Why had he even come back to him? Questions raced through his groggy mind until an annoyed growl was heard. He must have started to squirm away from the other unconsciously because the American's hands tightened around his loose shirt.

Alfred stirred, his head pressing further against the others chest in a desperate attempt to stay asleep. He let out another muffled groan just wishing to never get up ever again. Ivan giggled despite himself, Alfred having the effect to make him smile even as he dealt with his inner turmoil. The teen was so cute cuddling up to his chest!

The blond finally lifted his head at the sound, blue eyes blinking open tiredly. "Mornin'" He mumbled, closing his eyes once more because it was too much trouble to keep them open. He tried opening them again and realized how he was practically on top of the Russian which caused him to quickly scoot away. Ivan pouted, missing the warmth the other exuded but took the chance to sit up. He usually wasn't very comfortable with other people touching him (other than his sisters of course) but he made an exception for Alfred. He was special.

Alfred let out a loud yawn and stretched, half of his brain still asleep and not functioning nor would it until its demand for food was quenched. He stared at Ivan who looked at him nervously. His eyes bore into him as his brain desperately tried to make some sort connection in its dormant state. "You killed people." He finally said bluntly and Ivan cringed.

"Da." He responded after a moment. What else could he say?

"But they we're bad people." Alfred reminded, his eyelids still droopy from sleep but becoming slowly more alert.

"Da." The pale blond stated with certainty, his fist tightening slightly around the covers pooled in his lap.

"Do you regret it?" The question was sudden and didn't match the detached sleep laced voice that spoke it.

Ivan paused, digesting the question, "...I regret killing them but I am happy they are dead..." He answered honestly. No matter how bad the orphanage was, it was better than his father.

Alfred frowned, blinking his eyes slowly. Without another word he threw the covers off of himself and stood up. He stretched his tired muscles before heading for the door.

"Where are you going?" Ivan panicked slightly at the sudden movement. Was he leaving him? Had he answered incorrectly?

"I can't think this early. I gotta eat something, usually Papa's got something on the table for me. You hungry?" Alfred responded obliviously, yawning for added effect. The Russian visibly relaxed at the explanation but remained still. Alfred didn't wait for him to respond, his stomach making a grumbling noise as it lead him toward the kitchen.

Ivan hesitated but then followed. He didn't understand. Why was Alfred acting as if everything was alright? Nothing was alright. Nothing would ever be alright.

Alfred stumbled down the stairs, smiling as he saw some crepes out. They only needing to be heated and he could satisfy his stomach so that he could concentrate on the important problem at hand. Looking at the plate that had a note laid delicately atop (_Good morning Alfred. Enjoy breakfast and please leave some for Matthieu. Papa.) _reminded him that he did love his Papa sometimes.

* * *

"Ok... So we're going to figure this out together." Alfred said slowly, much more awake after his breakfast. They had returned to his bedroom and the American had procured a drawing pad from the dark depths of his closet. After flipping through many drawings from his artistic phase at the age of six, he finally found a blank page to his liking. He set it on the window sill to keep it upright and wrote in big letters: "THE HEROIC PLAN TO SAVE IVAN".

"Phase one will be getting rid of your nightmares." Alfred continued, writing down "Phase 1: Nightmares". He then drew a very sloppy cell phone shaped blob. Ivan peered at it questioningly.

"Is the drawing pad necessary?" Ivan asked with a raised brow from his seat on the others bed. He didn't understand what the American was doing. Was he really going to try and 'save' him? Why did he care? He was a murderer... he didn't deserve his help. _'No one will save you_' The voices of his nightmares echoed in his mind and he quickly pushed them out.

"Yes. It is. Now, to get rid of the nightmares. Whenever you have one you have to call me immediately after," He pointed to the 'cell phone' drawn, "And tell me what happened. Ok?"

"I do not agree. First, it will be very late at night. And second, you do not want to know about my nightmares." Ivan denied, not looking forward to disclosing such personal information. He didn't need to know anything about what happened in his mind. He would become frightened and leave him.

"Losing sleep isn't as important as being a hero and yeah I want to know. I'm a part of this now and I'm gonna fix it." He snapped, turning back to his drawing pad to scribble 'Phase two: Toris'. He then proceeded to draw a stick figure that didn't resemble Toris at all. It looked more like a flower than anything.

"Toris? What does he have to do with any of this?" Ivan asked warily, it was hard enough telling Alfred about his problems let out telling more people.

"Dude. He got a letter from your sister. He has to know more! What if he knows where she is?" Alfred responded incredulously. Ivan's eyes widened in realization. How had he overlooked that? It had been so unreal. He had merely basked in the happiness of knowing his sister was alive than probing to discover how the brunette knew her. What a horrid oversight!

"You are right." He breathed out.

"I always am." Ivan rolled his eyes and Alfred gave him cheeky grin. "Ok. So we'll interrogate him or something. Hopefully, he'll tell us and maybe we can get into contact with her."

"I have been writing Natalia letters... She has never responded. I think the orphanage is keeping my letters instead of giving them to her." Ivan decided to admit, propping his head up with a hand on his chin. He hoped she was well...

"Hmmm... Then that gets rid of my phase three of writing the orphanage... so instead we'll deal with your anger." The American decided matter of factly.

"My anger?" Ivan question with a tilt of the head.

"You smashed my head into a table. You choked me." Alfred reminded bluntly, a small frown on his face.

"It was your own fault. There was blood on my hands." Ivan tried to defend himself. Alfred only grinned at the information.

"Ah hah! So thats your trigger." He exclaimed excitedly scribbling it onto the pad: "TRIGGER: Blood on hands" followed by a crude picture of a hand that in reality resembled deformed circle with protrusions.

"Trigger?"

"Yep. I saw it in a movie once. The psycho has some bad past and there are these things that trigger his memories. An' when that happens he goes psycho." Alfred stated with conviction. He turned to his drawing pad to write: "Phase 3: Anger". "Do you have any other triggers?"

"...I do not think so..." Ivan kept the fact that he got angry when Alfred himself was sad or hurt. It had nothing to do with his past so it probably didn't count. And it didn't happen very often, only around his English father...

"Ok. So we just got to keep blood and red paint away from your hands." He decided easily. "And if you do go psycho you should try and think of something happy that calms you."

"So I should think of you?" Ivan smirked as the comment made the other blush and snap at him. How he did enjoy the other flustered because of him.

"You are such a weirdo..." Alfred growled out, looking at his plan to see if there was anything else. He felt the others violet gaze on his back. It didn't make him nervous or anything... Being in the same room with a killer... Not at all... He was a hero and heroes never got scared. Ever. He slowly turned around to look at his..erm..boyfriend.

"D-do you ever want to kill again?" He blurted out with a slight tremble in his voice. His blues eyes shifted from the violet gaze to the floor as he stood there awkwardly.

"No." Ivan lied after a moment because he could tell the other was feeling anxious and he didn't want to add to his worry. Sometimes he wanted to hurt his teachers, especially his English one. Sometimes he wanted to hurt Gilbert. Sometimes he wanted to kill his English father.

But he would never tell Alfred that.

"Ok good." Alfred breathed a sigh of relief, trying to relax once more. Ivan had just been a victim of circumstance. Forced to kill or be killed... But now that he was in the Amazing Country of America he didn't need to anymore. So of course he wouldn't have any urges unless triggered. It made sense. Still, something in the back of his mind picked at the rational. He decided to ignore it for now.

* * *

Arthur sipped at his tea lazily, enjoying his Sunday morning. He could relax, read some of the news and perhaps embroider.

"Arthur! When can I get this stupid cast off." Francis whined, hobbling toward him. It had been practically a month but it felt so much longer. Sure it didn't impair him in the bedroom (he had that much skill and Arthur was, in fact, very flexible) but it was a pain to limp around the home all the time.

Arthur cringed, his morning ruined, "Another month Francis. Stop whining. Maybe if you actually took it easy like the doctor said you could have it removed sooner."

Francis pouted, "I am getting close to taking my butcher's knife and freeing myself as it is."

"Then I would be forced to remove all the knives from this establishment."

"Then how would I cook?"

"You wouldn't. I would." He threatened making Francis gasp.

"You would not! You would kill the children." Francis reminded, giving him a horrified look. Arthur only smirked.

"They've survived my cooking before. And it isn't that bad! A scone is a much better treat than a croissant."

"In the oldens days you would be guillotined for such crazy talk Arthur." The Englishman rolled his eyes, hiding his smile with his tea cup. Francis still caught it but decided not to point it out because it would make the Englishman scowl. "Anyways, we need to go."

"Go?" Arthur questioned, smile disappearing as he placed his tea cup down onto the table.

"Arthur! It is a week before Christmas. We must go shopping for presents!" The Frenchman cried in an obvious tone.

"Shh! They'll here you." Arthur snapped, his emerald eyes darting around the room for their sons.

Francis chuckled, "Oh Arthur, they are no longer six. They know there is no Santa."

"Well, I much preferred it when they did. They were so much cuter. You always seem to ruin the magic of the moment." He smiled fondly at the memories of Christmas morning. Of late nights filled with wrapping gifts as quietly as possible. Of being woken up by fiercely determined twins, pouncing on their sleeping forms with battle cries. Of sipping tea as the wide eyed boys opened the gifts with such fervor and happiness that Arthur wished he could just give them the entire world.

The mess of wrapping paper on the ground after the storm of excitement was well worth it.

"It is so much more difficult to get them gifts now..." He sighed. Before, a toy firetruck or a comic book character was enough to light up their eyes...

"You just have to pick up the signs. Alfred is practically begging to get that new phone and Matthieu wishes for the new Ipod. Alfred seems to believe he will perish unless he receives more video games and Matthieu has a few books he has been dying to read. You should be more observant, Arthur." Francis scolded playfully, adding a 'tsking' noise to the end of his statement.

"I am observant!" Arthur defended, "I just pay more attention to what my son's are doing! Like how Alfred and Ivan are become dangerously close."

"Oh Arthur not this again." Francis sighed, how had they gotten onto this topic? It was all Arthur ever ranted about now and it was so very annoying. Why couldn't the Brit just let them be.

"I do not trust that teenager, Francis. He hurt my boy more than once and I won't forgive him for it. What if they get into a fight, and its obvious they will, and Ivan hurts him again? But worse?" How could Francis not see the danger? How could he not be worrying constantly over Alfred's safety?

"Arthur you worry excessively. They'll be fine, let them have their fun. You had your fun as a child." Francis reminded, raising his eyebrows as if to dare the other to refute his statement.

"And I am not very happy about that! I spent my time with the wrong friends and it got me into plenty of trouble. I don't want Alfred to make the same mistakes." Arthur defended, crossing his arms and glaring at nothing. He was a veritable delinquent when younger and it tarnished his gentlemanly reputation. He didn't want Alfred to get sucked into the wrong crowd like he had.

"You give him too little credit, Arthur. He is not a child, he can make his own decisions." Francis assured, patting the Brit's head reassuringly but also condescendingly. Arthur sent him a glare, swatting at the hand and made his husband chuckle, "Why do I have the feeling you'll forbid them from leaving the house after they graduate?"

Arthur's glare became fiercer, "There is nothing wrong with being protective over ones children."

"You know... The more you suffocate them, the more they'll want to leave. Wasn't that the case with you as well?" Francis spoke up, a tinge of seriousness in his previously playful tone. Arthur grew quiet, opening his newspaper and focusing on it instead of the bloody Frenchman. Francis sighed, "I'll go get ready and then we can leave." Arthur didn't respond and Francis left him in his sour mood. He could be so moody sometimes.

"No. You're gonna be nicer to other people." Alfred snapped, coming down the stairs and into Arthur's earshot. His brows furrowed in confusion before seeing that his son was talking to Ivan, not himself.

"I do not like other people." Ivan stated firmly.

"And that's why you come off as a creeper. I'm trying to fix you here, Iva-Oh hey Dad." Alfred greeted, looking at his father. Uh oh, the Englishman was already glaring at him. Crap. He must have just had a fight with Papa...

"I'm still waiting for your apology." Arthur said sternly, his anger at his husband reminding him of the anger toward his son from last night. Alfred furrowed his brows in confusion before remembering the whole dinner fiasco. It didn't seem that big of a deal right now. Not after what he had learned.

"Apology? For what?" He asked noncommittally. He had more important things to be doing.

"You're atrocious behavior. You disrespected me and caused a scene."

"Whatever, sorry." He sighed out, rolling his eyes. Arthur absolutely fumed, standing up to glare up at his son. How dare he treat him like that? Had the boy gone mad?

"Don't 'whatever' me boy! Do you have any idea how horribly you acted? Like a four year old!"

Alfred gritted his teeth. "I'm sixteen. Let me be. I said I was sorry. I have stuff to do." Now he was beginning to get angry himself.

"No, you did not apologize. And you will not be doing this 'stuff' until you do so." Arthur retorted, his eyes narrowed dangerously and his arms crossed. He waited.

"Oh my God! Why are you so annoying? I'm sorry! I can't do anything without you yelling at me!"

"Don't raise your voice with me Alfred Kirkland Bonnefoy or so help me God I will take away all of your video games for a week!" He finally threatened, anger rising to dangerous levels within him as he stared him down.

Alfred fell silent, glaring at his father before turning away and stomping up the stairs. Arthur let him go because clearly Alfred felt the need to behave like spoiled five year old. Ivan watched his American go, anger swelling within him toward the British man. How dare he anger his Alfred? He was the only one allowed to do so!

"And you." Arthur hissed, fury switching toward the large Russian, "I still don't like this—this 'relationship' between you two. If you hurt my little boy just a single bit, whether it be emotionally or physically, I will make you pay."

"You are the only one hurting him." Ivan growled out dangerously as Arthur's eyebrows shot up at the accusation. How dare this teenager address him in such a way? Had he no decency when addressing an elder?

"I think it would be best if you returned home, Ivan. I'll phone Toris." He mused darkly, leveling his green eyes on the others peculiar violet. Ivan held the gaze defiantly.

"I do not wish to go home and so long as Alfred allows me to be here I will stay. Now, I should return to him because I actually care about him." He snapped, his eerie smile twitching slightly as he spoke.

"Are you supposing I don't care about my own son?" Arthur asked in a measure tone in order to hide his disbelief. Where would he ever even get the idea?

"I am not supposing. I know." Ivan bit back with that creepy smile, heading toward the stairs.

"I'll have you know I love my son very much!" Arthur shouted after him.

"That's not what I see." It was a whisper but it carried.

Arthur absolutely fumed as Ivan left, he didn't want that Russian in this house or anywhere near Alfred! He grabbed the nearest phone, punching in the buttons angrily. The phone picked up after a moment with a tentative 'hello?'

"Toris! I need you to come here and pick up your ward... Yes, as a matter of fact he has caused some trouble... He disrespected me and has tested my patience...Thank you, and I do hope you try to drive some sense into that hooligan." He slammed the phone down, glared at the wall and wondered where had he gone wrong with his eldest son.

* * *

When Ivan rejoined Alfred in his bedroom he found him furiously playing some sort of WWII video games. For once though, he was not playing as an American and instead a German. And he was only shooting at the Brits. Ivan smirked, amused.

"I hate him when he's like that." Alfred murmured to no one in particularly.

"Hmm?"

"He has fights with Papa and when he looses them he takes it out on me. It wouldn't have mattered what I had said. He'd still yell at me." He explained, aiming and killing another British soldier.

"If it always happens then why does it bother you?" Ivan asked with a tilt of his head. It didn't make very much sense.

"Because it sucks, Ivan!" Alfred snapped, glaring at him. "Wouldn't it suck if your father was disappointed in you?" Alfred paled slightly after he spoke and turned back around as he realized what he had said, "I mean... I mean if your sister was disappointed in you..."

Ivan remained quiet for two reasons. First he did not wish to speak of his sister and second because it seemed Alfred wished to vent and the question wasn't meant to be answered.

"Nothing I do is good enough. It doesn't matter what I do, he'll find something bad and yell about it. I just.." He sighed, the fight leaving him as he returned to his game but with none of the same anger. He half halfheartedly shot at the allies, seeming almost bored as he stared at the screen with a dull expression on his face.

Ivan stayed silent, unsure what to say. He didn't understand why Alfred would want his English father's acceptance. The man was horrible. All he did was yell and hurt the people that cared for him. Was it something that sons craved from fathers? He had never had such feelings... But Alfred and his English father weren't even related! It didn't make sense.

So, he sat down on the bed next to the American, watching him play in silence. Alfred soon got bored of the game and switched it to Lego Star Wars because he 'needed to laugh'. He even forced Ivan to play which seemed to give him much amusement. Ivan didn't quite understand what was going, nor did he understand how to move his character but it made Alfred laugh when he died in unconventional ways so he supposed it wasn't all that bad.

He was finally understanding the controls to the game when they were interrupted by a yell.

"Ivan! You're leaving!" It was tinged with happiness.

"Huh? I didn't know you were going soon..." Alfred mumbled, confusion evident in his fading voice.

Ivan furrowed his brows, getting up to go see what this was all about. Alfred followed him only to find a still angry Englishman speaking hurriedly with a nervous looking Lithuanian. Shit.

"H-hello Ivan. Time to go." Toris said with a forced, shaky smile. Ivan smiled back in a much more creepy way though his eyes were locked on the blond man forcing him to leave..

"Dad, how come Ivan is leaving so soon?" Alfred asked slowly, suspicion rising within him. Shit, was his Dad really that pissed at him? Shit...

"Many reasons. Best not to hold them up. Say good bye Alfred." Arthur clipped out politely with a fake smile.

Alfred hesitated, still very angry with his father about everything. He still didn't really understand everything with Ivan... He didn't know exactly what to do other than that he had to help him. Still, he wished he could work more on his plan with him or at least get more information from him.

"I will see you in school Alfred." Ivan said and Alfred nodded slowly. Should he hug him goodbye? He was still a little antsy about Ivan being a killer even though the crimes were committed a while ago and not entirely his fault...

"Yes, yes. Off we go." Arthur tried to speed up the process and get the mad man out of his home. The sooner he was gone, the sooner he'd feel his home to be safer.

Alfred frowned and then, partly from his anger and partly from his actual feelings, he yanked Ivan down by his collar (careful about the scarf) to pull him into their first kiss since the confession. Ivan's eyes widened fractionally before responding to the kiss eagerly. How wonderful! He had surely not expected this but he welcomed the sudden change of events.

Alfred had pressed his tongue into Ivan's eager mouth when his father's hand yanked him back. Toris was blinking rapidly in shock as he was pushed in a-not-so-very-gentlemanly fashion out of the home along with a happy Russian. The door slammed shut and Arthur whirled around, his gentlemanly mask left behind on the doorstep.

Alfred smiled triumphantly at his furious father.

"What was that?" He asked, trying to reign his anger by controlling himself. It came out sounding more as a threat, quiet and ominous.

"That was me showing my affection to my boyfriend." Alfred retorted and, feeling especially rebellious, added,"I learned it from my parents who think its okay to shag on the dining room table right in front of me but not to let me date."

Arthur saw red and leveled his son a scolding glare. Alfred's fire left him at the sight and he gulped nervously. Maybe he had been pushing it a little... But Dad was being so unfair!

Arthur didn't say a word as he headed up the stairs, making Alfred even more nervous. He had no choice but to follow him. The firm click of the man's shoes echoed down the hallway as he moved along. The Englishman stormed to his son's bedroom and Alfred's fear multiplied as he hurried after him.

"Dad! Dad what are you doing!" Once they reached his bedroom Alfred could only gasp in horror. He screeched in terror as Arthur pulled the plug on his Wii, before he had the chance to save his game. His dread only grew when his dad grabbed his X-Box as well. "No! Dad you can't do that!"

Arthur didn't respond, taking the consoles out of the room and into his own, placing them in the deepest corner's of his closet. Alfred had his hands pulling at his hair as he saw his babies being dirtied by the filth of that closet. But no, Arthur didn't stop there. He stalked right back into his room. Alfred ran after helplessly, trying to think of someone to get out of this.

Now he was after his Play Station! Alfred almost sobbed as he saw it being taken away when Arthur stopped. Was mercy shining upon him?

"Give me your DS." It came out coldly.

"No. Dad please! I'm sor—" Alfred begged, all hope seeming to escape. Not his DS. It was all he had left. Surely he would forgive him?

"_Now_."

Alfred bit his lip as he took out his last gaming device and handed it to his father. He didn't bother following him into his bedroom and just sat on his bed despondently. He was surprised when Arthur returned to his bedroom. What else was there for him to take away? He had already taken away everything.

"You will get them back in two weeks." Arthur stated, detached.

"Two weeks! Dad! I—"

"I will not be treated like this any longer. Now, if you apologize sincerely before then, you can have them back." He left him without another word.

Alfred fisted his pillow in anger and frustration. This wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all. He was trying to save someone and instead he got all of his games taken away. What the hell was he suppose to do now! How could his Dad be so cruel? What had he done that was so bad?

He glared at the wall, his blue eyes landing on the drawing pad still leaning on his window sill. He snatched it, flipping to the next blank page and fiercely scribbling down his anger. It was something to do, something to vent his anger out on. At first he attempted to draw out his fury but it only made him more frustrated because of his lack of talent. He ripped out the page, crumpling it and throwing it at the wall, imagining the spot to be a certain British individual.

He turned to a new page. Then he started to write.

_Why Arthur Bonnefoy fucking sucks:_

_He took away my games_

_He is super mean_

_He can't cook_

_He hates Ivan_

_He yells_

_He thinks I'm stupid_

_He treats me like a child_

_He is never proud of me_

_He hates me_

_I fucking hate him too!_

He hurled the drawing pad away from him, turning around to bury his head into his pillow. His life fucking sucked. He was dating an ex-killer and his dad hated him. And you know what? He wasn't going to blame Ivan this time. No. He was blaming Arthur. Because he was fucking sick and tired of all this bullshit. He was sick and tired of fighting with him. He was sick and tired of crying over it. He was sick and tired of being treated as a child. He was sick and tired of being a failure in his father's eyes.

Alfred was done with him. For good.

* * *

Guys, I really am sorry this took so long.  
School has been absolutely murder. With piles of homework and college aplication process starting I've been a mess of stress. I've also seemed to fallen in a 'second semester slump' from the stress. Don't worry, I'm not abandoning this story but I just have more pressing matters in real life that take precedence.

I have question for you guys. If I know I'm not going to be able to post a chapter, do you want me to post an author's not to notify you guys? Usually I just update my profile with the info for those who care enough to look. See, personally i hate it when Authors post authors notes only to tell me that the chapter wont be up. Because I get all excited about an alert and then it turns out to be nothing.

But maybe that just me. Tell me what you prefer in your reviews so I know for next time.

Next Chapter: Alfred is angry, Arthur feels slightly guilty and Matthews caught in the middle.

Thanks for all the support and love, it means a lot! I love you all so very much.

See you soon!


	32. Chapter 31

"Arthur... Why were you yelling at Alfred earlier?" Francis asked curiously as he parked the car at the mall. Arthur unbuckled himself and stepped out of the vehicle calmly. Francis followed, remaining silent as he waited for the answer.

"Alfred has been acting like a spoiled brat for the past few days. He has disrespected me far too much and I was tired of it. I took away his games for two week." The Brit replied with little emotion, heading toward the large building. Francis sighed as he hurried to his husbands side. Why couldn't he be more easy going like him?

"Aren't you being a little harsh? Alfred's a good boy..." Francis brought up quietly, not wanting to instigate another fight over the parenting of their son. Really, Arthur could be so stubborn sometimes!

"You're being too soft. He needs to learn that he has to treat others with respect. He caused a scene at dinner with company and he spoke to me with contempt. Its as if he thinks that just because he has grown taller than us it means he knows better." The blond snapped, crossing his arms as he walked briskly.

Francis chuckled dryly at the comment, holding the door open for the other blond before stepping in himself. "Yes, but two weeks?" He asked again feeling guilty. Alfred absolutely loved his video games, taking them away would almost be like withdrawing him from sex for two weeks. And he never wanted to do that ever again.

Arthur sighed, "I'll probably let him have them by Christmas next week. But still Francis, he needs to learn." His son could be so difficult sometimes. He had calmed down from the fury and now could think rationally over the situation. Perhaps he had yelled a little too much but Alfred had been unreasonable as well. And of course, that Russian troublemaker was part of it all too. "I do not like Ivan. He is a bad influence." He stated grimly with a frown while the pair maneuvered through the Macy's in order to reach the interior of the mall.

"And why do you say that?" Francis asked, perplexed. Ivan seemed like a nice enough boy, quiet but nice. After spotting one of the large maps, he lead their way toward it.

"After having our little argument, Alfred stormed up into his room. Ivan stayed behind and yelled at me. The nerve of that boy! There's something wrong and dangerous about him Francis, I can sense it." Arthur reasoned, he was almost certain he felt a threat laced in the younger teen's words.

"What did he say?" Francis asked, looking away from the map with concern. He could fight with Arthur and so could Alfred. He could insult him as well because they were family and they loved each other and that was how families worked. However, he did not approve of Ivan disrespecting or insulting his husband. That was too far.

"He questioned my parenting and told me I was hurting Alfred. He even accused me of not caring for him!" Arthur snapped bitterly, turning away to walk sharply in the direction of the '2H' section that housed a Game Spot. Where could he have gotten the idea in his head? He loved his son dearly!

Sure he wasn't very affectionate. Sure he didn't express his love frequently. Sure he usually kept his emotions to himself. Sure he usually masked them with anger. But he still loved him!

"...Does Alfred not think I love him?" He asked quietly, the idea popping into his head suddenly due to his train of thought. Was Alfred ranting to Ivan about it and the Russian was merely trying to help his boyfriend? Would Alfred really ever believe he didn't love him?

"Of course he knows you love him, Arthur!" Francis assured quickly, giving him a reassuring squeeze of the hand. Arthur bit his lip but nodded anyway. "Perhaps you should talk to him calmly when we get back?"

"I suppose..." Arthur mused. He didn't really like 'emotional' talks, unlike his 'lovey dovey husband' who seemed to live off them.

"Come on, this is suppose to be a happy occasion. Look around, it is Christmas!" Francis tried to cheer him up, wrapping an arm around the others waist to pull him closer.

"Yes, yes I'm not blind frog. I can see the bloody huge Christmas tree." Arthur retorted with a huff, his fiery personality returning. He squirmed in the others grip until he was released. Though, he did let his husband hold his hand. Francis grinned at his minor success and tugged the Englishman to the store.

* * *

"Alfred? Where are you going?" Matthew asked worriedly as he saw his brother stuffing his backpack with his books, having already packed an overnight bag. He could feel the anger and frustration leaving his twin in waves and it only served to increase his anxiety. He knew his father and Alfred had gotten into another fight, which isn't very unusual, except this time it seemed to have turned especially badly.

"To Toris'. I wont be back for a while. I'll be at school, don't worry." Alfred explained easily, as if it was perfectly normal to just pack your bags and leave your house 'for a while' on a whim. Matthew chewed at his bottom lip, not liking at all how this was going.

"Does Dad know?" The younger asked quietly with a small frown. He had heard the yelling and the screaming. He knew the fight had been an angry one and finding his brother packing his things was not a good sign. Not at all.

"No. He doesn't, But Arthur's opinion doesn't fucking matter." Alfred bit out and Matthew flinched at the name 'Arthur'. He never addressed him by his first name, it was always 'Dad' or when they were younger, 'Daddy'. His brother must really be mad.

"But Al, you'll get in trouble. Here, come to my room and we can talk." The younger of the pair tried to reason. Usually that was what Alfred always did. He vented to his brother and felt better, then he patched things up with their father. Then again, usually fights didn't end with Alfred packing his bags.

"I don't care what Arthur does. Ivan needs me right now so I'm gonna go help him." Alfred responded firmly, zipping up his backpack with a quick tug.

Matthew frowned,what was wrong with his brother? He seemed much more serious and angry. He felt a little hurt that his brother didn't want his help at all.

"What do I tell Dad and Papa?" He asked quietly, resigning himself. He knew when Alfred was determined about something he wouldn't stop no matter what. Especially when he was so angry that he was trying to mask it with calmness. There would be no reasoning with him until he cooled down.

"The truth. It doesn't matter. I'm not coming home for a while no matter what they say." The elder shrugged, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "Hey, could you give me a ride? I don't want to leave Papa's car at Toris' for the entire time." Matthew bit his lip. So Alfred still addressed Papa as papa but Dad as Arthur?

"I..I guess." He to finally acquiesced. He felt he was caught in the middle once more, unsure who exactly to side with. Still, he never really could deny his brother, even with his most foolish schemes he always ended up going along with him.

* * *

"We are home!" Francis announced into the quiet house, holding suspicious looking bags full of soon to be presents. Arthur grumbled behind him, a distracted attempt to get him to stop yelling. He needed to talk to Alfred, to settle things. Hopefully the boy had cooled down and they could speak to one another like civilized adults.

"H-Hey." Matthew greeted awkwardly, nibbling at his bottom lip. He was such a horrible liar when it came to things like this. Why couldn't he have inherit his brother's bullshit gene that enabled to come up with lies in seconds?

"Matthieu? Is something wrong?" Francis asked slowly, placing the bags down. His son looked worried, he wondered if something had happened with Alfred or maybe Gilbert.

Before the boy could respond, Arthur interupted, "Where's your brother?"

"He's not here..." Matthew mumbled nervously feeling his father's emerald gaze narrow on him. It pierced through him easily and made him squirm slightly in his shoes.

"Well, where is he?" Arthur asked patiently, slowly.

"At Toris'..." He replied meekly, wondering why he felt so worried when Alfred himself didn't. Maybe it was because he was the more responsible twin, he was feeling what his brother _should _be feeling.

"What? After that whole fight he has the nerve to go there? Is he daft! I'm goin-" Arthur's anger began to boil within him again at the mere thought and probably would have continued to simmer unless his husband interrupted.

"Arthur, we spoke about this." Francis reminded calmly and Arthur sent him a glare but tried to calm down as well.

"I'll go fetch him so we can all speak calmly." He bit out and Francis nodded. Matthew, though, only grew more agitated. Didn't they realize that would only make it worse?

"Dad, wait. Al...Al's really mad and he told me he wasn't coming home 'for a while'. I think you should let him be for at least the day..."

"He can think that all he wants but that doesn't change the fact he lives under my roof and under my rules. I will not have him gallivanting about when he is supposed to be punished. I am getting him back and that's final!" Arthur snapped at him before yanking his coat from where he had just hanged it on the hook.

Matthew cringed and hesitated once more, "Dad, if you go in there like this he won't come home. He wouldn't even talk to me about it!" He reasoned, but yet again his input was ignored.

"Why don't I go and speak with him? I'm sure I can convince him to come home." Francis piped up soothingly but unfortunately it had the adverse affect of riling Arthur up even further.

_Are you implying that I'm the bad parent?_ The scolding green eyes demanded silently. Arthur was way to far gone in his anger to be reasoned with. From this morning's fiasco to this, he had reached his limit. "I am perfectly capable of retrieving my own son, frog."

"Our son." Francis corrected getting slightly annoyed and frustrated. "_We'll _retrieve _our_ son, alright?"

Matthew was about to pipe up that maybe it would be best if he accompanied them as well but his parents had already left the room. He sighed, watching them drive away without him. He really did hope they succeeded in bringing his twin home but he knew it was highly unlikely.

If anyone knew Alfred, it was Matthew. And Matthew knew that Alfred had to calm down in order to even listen to another person's argument when he was this furious at someone.

* * *

Ivan had been mildly surprise to find Alfred at his doorsteps only a few hours after he had departed from his home. He had almost been certain that his English father would forbid him from leaving his home. Apparently he had been wrong as Alfred proceeded to make himself at home the minute he walked into his house.

He had dragged his belongings into Ivan's bedroom, 'called' the side of the bed with a nightstand (even though that was the Russian's preferred side. Alfred justified his claim with the excuse that he needed to be close to his glasses) and then plopped himself onto the couch, remote already in hand.

"So, where's Tor?" The American asked, looking around the smaller home for his friend. It felt like he hadn't seen him for a long time. Let alone he still planned to interrogate him about Katyu-Katya-about Kat.

"Working." Ivan replied simply, deciding to sit down beside the blond instead of standing. The brunette had rushed to work after dropping his ward back home claiming that 'something important had come up'.

"Shit, is that all he does now? I don't remember him ever working so much..." Alfred mused anxiously. Toris could work himself until he was sick and he hoped his friend wasn't hurting himself.

"How do you know Toris?" Ivan asked suddenly, remembering how the two had greeted each other so familiarly all those weeks ago. He didn't like the idea of sharing Alfred's affection with others.

"Hmm? Oh, he used to be our neighbor and he used to babysit Mattie and I. He's a pretty cool dude." Alfred replied easily, his eyes more focused on the TV. There wasn't anything on... Ooh, Cake Boss! That show was fucking awesome. God damn it, now he was hungry for sweets.

"I see..." Ivan frowned. A babysitter? So Toris cared for him when he was younger. Isn't that what parents were meant to do? Were Alfred's parents to busy working? From what he gathered his French father was some sort of baker and his English father was a tailor. He understood the French one's absence, one probably needed to be in the actual bakery in order to bake... But his English father could work from home if he cared enough.

Although, it was obvious in Ivan's eyes that he didn't care in the slightest.

"Shit, look at that! Its fucking beautiful." Alfred was practically salivating at the huge decorated cake on screen. Why couldn't he have one?

Ivan raised an eyebrow at the reaction and stifled a giggle. Was Alfred in a constant state of hunger? The question only brought darker thoughts. He didn't even know what real hunger was! No, stop thinking of that... His sisters.. What if they were hungry? What if they were suffer-

"Hey, you ok?" Alfred asked, giving him a concerned glance.

"I am fine. Why?" Ivan replied instantly, masking his anxiety with a smile.

"I don't know...You got all tense and stuff..." Alfred was about to continue when Ivan decided to interrupt him.

"Why are you here Alfred? Not that you are not welcomed. I am merely curious." Ivan asked, curiosity was really only part of the motive behind the question. The other was to distract Alfred from asking his own invasive questions.

"Because." Alfred snapped, frowning as he looked back at the screen. He didn't want to answer the dumb question. Ivan gave him a questioningly look yet Alfred's mouth remained firmly shut. But, as the silence continued to reign (one of Alfred's most hated adversaries), the American's mouth eased open.

"Because my stupid dad was being an asshole and I didn't want to be anywhere near him. He took away my video games and said some other stuff. So, I was like 'to hell with it, I'm a hero and I'm gonna fucking save _someone's _day." He hissed out, crossing his arms self conciously, "And so here I am. I'm gonna stay here until I deem you saved."

"I still do not understand your fascination with 'saving'. I do agree that you're English father is quite cruel." Ivan commented with distaste though he felt Alfred tense beside him. How odd. He was agreeing with him, not arguing.

"I wouldn't say _cruel_." Alfred defended quietly, looking away and toward the floor. It was one thing for him to badmouth his own father but it was a whole other thing to have someone else do the same. Especially Ivan.

The Russian teen didn't know what to respond with so instead he remained silent. Alfred obliged and turned up the TV in order to satisfy his need for noise. The Cake Boss soon morphed into the Real Housewives of Atlanta and he left it at that because he was lazy. (In reality, Alfred was curious about NeNe's divorce issues and Kim's atrocious singing. No, he didn't watch the show before. Ever.) Ivan found the series increasingly annoying, wondering how Alfred could ever watch such garbage. Did these women even understand the hardships of life?

"Alfred?" Ivan finally spoke again, his violet gaze settling on Alfred who was much nicer looking than the fake vain women on the television.

"Hmm?" Alfred didn't take his eyes off the screen where a cat fight had broken out between two of the girls. Holy shit, the drama was suffocating him.

"May I kiss you?"

Alfred, still oblivious and finding his attention drawn to the fact that one of the guys had just called NeNe a bitch (he was in for it), let out a noncommittal, "Uh huh."

Ivan decided this was enough permission and let his hand tilt Alfred's face toward his own. It infuriated him slightly that Alfred's blues eyes were still locked on the screen. Of course, this was rightfully corrected when he did kiss the other because the American's eyes snapped to his in surprise.

Alfred was tense at first but slowly relaxed as Ivan's thumb rubbed soothingly at his cheek. He pressed back, trying to speed up the slow sweet kiss. Ivan ignored the attempt and continued his slow endeavor. When he pulled back he was forced to giggle at Alfred's pouty expression.

"What is wrong, дорогой?" He asked with an amused little smile. Alfred shivered a little, the expression almost seemed...predatory. He shook the thought away.

"You're making me miss my show." He reminded, eyes flickering to the screen even now.

"I am saving your brain cells. This show is dumb." The pale blond responded, kissing the pouty lips chastely.

Alfred stuck out his tongue and huffed before deciding to ask, "Hey... What was that word you said before? Dura-something?"

Ivan chuckled, "Its Russian."

"Well I knew that." Alfred snapped, making a 'duh' face with mild annoyance. "But what does it mean?"

"дорогой... It means.. It is like the word 'dear' I guess." He translated with slight difficulty. He hadn't even noticed the slip into his native tongue. He usually did his best to stick to English though it was difficult.

"Don't say such dumb sappy things." Alfred hissed, blushing all the same. How could Ivan come off as creepy homicidally inclined and cute at the same time? He was so weird...

But maybe that's why he liked him... Alfred didn't really want to think about that so instead he leaned up to kiss him again. Their conversation, and the housewives were forgotten as Alfred wrapped his arms around the others neck, pulling him closer and blocking everything else out.

* * *

Ivan had at first assumed the doorbell to be Toris. Perhaps the man had forgotten his key in his rush? With that in mind, he left Alfred on the couch in order to answer it.

The American had occupied the few hours he had been in the home with plans for Ivan's apparent 'rehabilitation' which he knew he would not follow. This topic somehow morphed into video games, ranting over unjust parenting and even Christmas. He pondered how his love interest's mind jumped from topic to topic so easily as he walked toward the front door.

When Ivan opened said door, instead of the shy nervous brunette he expected, he found two blonds. His mood immediately soured as Arthur all but pushed himself into the home. Francis followed behind him muttering a quick distracted apology before following after his husband.

Alfred had gotten up only to tense at the sight of his angry father. Shit. He thought he was in the clear. It had been going so well, too! Now he was going to be yelled at again. He was so tired of this shit.

"Alfred. Get in the car." Arthur tried to say it calmly but he just couldn't. He was extremely pissed off, more than he had been in a while. Francis had tried to calm him down in the car but he was beyond the point of no return. He was abso-bloody-lutely furious.

"No. I'm staying here." Alfred replied easily, trying to act indifferent. If he acted that way maybe his father would get frustrated and leave him be. It could work.

"No. You're not. I won't stand for this foolish game you are playing any longer. You will come home with us so that we can speak like civilized human beings." Arthur hissed, eyes daring his son to deny him.

"I'm not going back. At least not for a while. Nothing you say can make me go with you." The American retorted rebelliously.

Arthur felt his hands clench into fists. Just what had gotten into the boy? When had he ever acted so horribly? Even Francis was surprised at their son's behavior."Thats enough! Alfred, you will get in that car this instant or I swear I'll-"

"Or what?" Alfred snapped, straightening up to his full height and practically towering over his father. "What would you do, Arthur?"

"How dare you speak to me that way!" He leaned in close, threateningly. His son refused to back down.

"I'm almost an adult! I can speak to you however I want!" Their noses were almost brushing from there proximity. Francis watched with wide eyes as the fight escalated further than he'd ever seen before. He didn't know how to take control of the situation now that it was so out of hand.

"I am your father and you will treat me with respect!"

"You aren't my real father!"

The scream was answered with a loud slap before the room fell eerily silent. Alfred cupped his reddening face in shock, his blue eyes wide and slightly teary.

Arthur stared at him in shock as well, his whole body trembling. "I-I.." He chocked out in disbelief at what he had just done.

"You _hit_ me."

"I..I..."

"I-I hate you!" Alfred practically shrieked, taking a step away from him defensively. Arthur stared at him with wide vulnerable green eyes.

"D-Do what you want. S-see if I care." He whispered hoarsely, numbly. Without another word, the older man left the home with shaky steps.

"Arthur!" Francis called after him worriedly, but didn't follow him. Instead, he looked back at Alfred who still stood there with his hand on his cheek. He moved toward them, concern written upon his face and glimmering through his blue eyes. The American didn't react when his Papa examined his cheek gently. He ran his long, smooth fingers along the slightly reddened skin apologetically.

"You went too far, Alfred." Francis spoke evenly, calmly.

"He hit me!"

"Yes, and that is inexcusable. But the things you said Alfred, the way you said them... It even shocked me. And especially that last thing you said. You know how Arthur feels. You knew that would hurt him." Francis continued, in the same calm tone though his eyes were stern.

Alfred remained silent.

"You should come home." It was hopeful suggestion.

Silence was his only response.

"Fine. I just hope you realize how much you're hurting your father by doing this." He turned around and left the home, closing the door politely as he left.

Ivan had to control almost every fiber in his being in order to not smash Alfred's English father's head into the wall until the body was limp and lifeless in his arms. How dare he hurt his Alfred? He would pay. He would certainly pay. Instead, he had watched the scene until the intruders had left his house. He turned to Alfred, unsure whether he wished to be alone or to be comforted.

Alfred, himself, stared numbly at the wall, rubbing his cheek idly. He blinked his eyes hurriedly, trying to stop the damn tears from falling. He saw Ivan from the corner of his eyes, standing there with an uncharacteristic frown on his handsome face.

He reached out for him, buried his face in his chest and cried for a long time because he didn't fucking care if he sounded like a girl anymore. Everything fucking hurt.

* * *

When Francis returned to the car he found Arthur in the passenger seat, pressing his hands to his face. He opened the driver's door and stepped in, giving his husband a worrying glance.

"I hit him, Francis. I _hit_ him. How could I hit him? I didn't mean to—I don't know what happened. I-I—I hit him!" He whispered in shock, "I'm a horrible parent." He murmured to himself, pulling at his hair in shock and frustration and god why? How could he do such a thing? To hit a child?

"Arthur don't say that. What you did was wrong and you need to apologize. But you were right before, Alfred is acting horribly himself." Francis tried to soothe. There was something wrong with Alfred. Though, he couldn't excuse his husband's behavior either. They were both in the wrong. He only wished he was able to sit them down and let the talk.

"He's right, you know. Who are we kidding? We're not parents... I'm not his father, nor is he my son. Remember what they use to say? How God made us gay for a reason, to keep us from reproducing? I hit my own son, they were right—"

"Arthur! Don't you ever say that again! Don't you listen to those bastards! Thats why we moved away, do you understand me? They are wrong. Alfred _is _our son. We have papers to prove it. The nuns trusted us, for God's sakes!" Francis snapped angrily, swirving toward him in uncharacteristic fury. Francis prided himself with keeping up his suave, charming reputation. Though, Arthur always did have the ability to bring it down.

"Yes, they trusted a bastard who hit his own little boy!" Arthur shouted back, feeling tears prick at his eyes that he vehemently tried to blink away. Grown men don't cry damn it! Bloody hell...

"You are not a bastard! Stop saying these things Arthur! It was a mistake, we will mend it once Alfred calms down and comes home. Everything is going to be all right."

Arthur doubted that very much.

* * *

I do not own Cake Boss or the Real Housewives of Atlanta nor do I own Hetalia.

OMG look at all that drama! Nail biting isn't it?  
I hope this chapter doesn't suck. I feel like it does but I always hate my chapters :3

Poor Alfred, ever since he met Ivan his life has gone pretty downhill...  
Next chapter, more conflict but maybe a Christmas miracle as well? ~Who knows~

Also, so I'm not putting this back on its regular schedule 'cause my life is super hectic right now. I'll still update, just don't know when. Info on updates will be in my profile if you're curious.  
Thank you guys so much for all your love and support! 700 + reviews is fricken amazing.

Thanks for everything, see you soon.


	33. Chapter 32

Nope. Its not an April Fool's Joke! Finally, the newest chapter! I hope it doesn't suck!

* * *

Matthew looked up hopefully as he heard the door open, hoping to God three people would enter the home. No such luck, as only his papa and his depressed looking father stepped in. The twin was almost afraid to ask. It didn't seem like he had to though.

"Alfred refused to come home." Francis answered the unspoken question, helping his husband out of his coat. Matthew looked back down, he shouldn't be all that surprised. He knew deep down this would happen.

"I'll... I'll try to talk to him at school tomorrow..." He offered pathetically after a moment. He only had two chances to persuade his brother to come home. After Tuesday Winter Break started and school would be over for the year. Then he didn't know what he would do because going to face Alfred at Toris' home didn't seem like the best way to get him to come back.

"What if he doesn't come home before Christmas?" Arthur whispered meekly and Francis glared at him. The Frenchman was beginning to loose his patience. Arthur had been silent the entire trip home, staring at his hands in his lap. Francis hated it when Arthur acted this way, it brought back to many memories he wished to forget.

"He will come home. Stop moping Arthur, everything will be fine. He will probably be back tomorrow anyway." The elder blond assured.

He wasn't.

Matthew had tried his hardest to get his brother to just come home but had only incited anger. Alfred yelled at his brother for taking his father's side. Matthew accused him of being selfish. The conversation (most would define it as a heated argument) ended with Matthew dragging Gilbert away and Alfred doing the same with Ivan in the opposite direction. At lunch, Matthew ate with his boyfriend and Kiku, Alfred and Ivan ate on the roof.

The pair remained distant for the rest of the day, though they dealt with their emotions differently. Alfred complained about his family continuously and denied any sort of guilt he might have felt. Matthew ignored his feelings, plastering on a smile as he urged Gilbert to tell him about his awesome day.

Only Alfred kept up his front when returning to his 'home' at Toris'. Matthew merely flopped onto the couch and buried his head into one of the couch cushions. Soon he ignored his albino's calls and texts. His concern and worry over his brother melted into anger over his selfishness.

Alfred always did this. He blew up, took drastic action and made everyone else suffer because of it. Why couldn't he come home so they could fix everything? The house was so quiet without him. Dad had even stopped yelling! All he did was mope as well.

Matthew jerked slightly as fingers smoothed his blond locks. He glanced up to see his Papa's facing gazing down at him worriedly. He hadn't even noticed that he had come home from work.

"Are you alright?" The Frenchman asked softly. Matthew forced himself up, making room on the couch for his father to sit. Francis did so, soothing his son's head to rest on his shoulder as he continued to pet the soft hair. The younger twin didn't complain, finding it comforting.

"Alfred's being annoying." He finally sighed out. He wanted to say he was being a selfish bastard but he didn't think his father would like the wording of the statement. In truth his selfish bastard if a brother was being a selfish asshole. Didn't he understand that the problem would be solved faster and less painfully if he came home and talked it out? Drawing it out would only make things worse!

"Do not be like your father. He will come home. It has only been a day." Francis reassured, repeating the same thing he had been forced to say for the past day. It never seemed to help, though.

"You haven't fought with him yet. It can be quite exhausting." Matthew snapped tiredly, turning his head slightly so his voice was muffled by his father's shoulder.

"Hmm." Francis hummed.

"...I love you, Papa." Matthew whispered softly, having the sudden urge to say those words. Francis smiled, nuzzling into the blond hair before placing a soft kiss on the top of his head, eliciting a light giggle from the younger.

"Je t'aime aussi, mon petit." (_I love you too, my little one)_

* * *

"Where are you headin' off to?" Alfred asked as he watched Toris run around the house. His coat was half on and his hair was in a frazzled state. His shoes were on but untied as he ran about in search of his keys.

"To the airport. Raivis and Eduard will be arriving at the airport soon. I'm going to be late!" He muttered under his breath what Alfred could only assume was a curse as he finally located his car keys.

"Oh! Cool! Haven't seen them in a while. Why are they coming over?" Alfred asked excitedly, ignoring the Russian sitting beside him on the couch. Ivan did not see what was so interesting about more people having to stay in the home with them. Especially if it took Alfred's attention away from himself.

Toris paused to stare at the young blond in disbelief, "Christmas is this Sunday."

Alfred made a small 'o' shape with his mouth, feeling slightly stupid that he had forgotten. How could he forget? Christmas was one of his favorite holidays! Sitting around the fire with the fami-

Oh. That's why.

He quickly sat back down and looked over at Ivan, "So, what should we do now?"

He wasn't trying to distract himself or anything.

Ivan raised an eyebrow at the sudden change in attention before shrugging. "We may do whatever you wish."

Alfred rolled his eyes. He hated indecisive answers like that. They never got anything done. He heard Toris climb the stairs hurriedly, probably having forgotten something or another. The dude really needed to take a chill pill once in a while.

"If you are so bored, then we should play strip poker." Ivan spoke suddenly from beside him.

"Wait..What?" Alfred asked, alarmed. He stared at the Russian as if he had grown a second head. Ivan tilted his head in slight confusion at the reaction he received. Had he said something wrong?

"Is something wrong?"

"Did you seriously just ask me out of the blue if we could play strip poker?" Alfred asked incredulously. Strip poker? With Ivan? That would be so awkward! Except for the fact that Ivan might have to strip... Which might be hot-No. It would be awkward!

Ivan was about to answer when the phone interrupted him. He ignored it, "Is it odd? I read on the internet that it is a fun game to do when one is bored."

"Ok. First off, what sites are you surfing? Second off, do you even know how to play poker?"

"Could some one answer the phone!" Toris called from upstairs, suddenly.

"I am sure I can learn quickly enough." Ivan answered with a shrug. Alfred hesitated a moment as a cruel smirk adorned his features. Hmm, maybe it could be fun. And it would be a great distraction.

Not that he needed a distraction or anything.

"We'll see." He finally stated, reaching over and picking up the phone since it seemed obvious Ivan wasn't going to (The Russian absolutely hated phones), "Hello?"

"T-Toris?" Came a very timid voice.

"Nah. He's busy. I'm Alfred, and I can take message for him."

"Мне очень жаль, я не говорю по английски." (_I'm sorry, I don't speak English._)

"What? Sorry man I can't understand you. Are you speaking Russian?" Alfred offered, wondering what the hell the feminine voice had just said. It did sound similar to what Ivan sounded like when he started speaking in his creepy native tongue. "Wait, Ivan here can speak Russian." He would have handed the phone over if not for the sudden panic on the other line.

"Nyet Ivan! Nyet Ivan!"

Alfred narrowed his eyes. He knew enough that 'Nyet' meant 'no'. "How do you know, Ivan?" He asked quickly, feeling his neighbor on the couch perk up. And suddenly Alfred's eyes widened. Wait a minute, a chick, calling Toris, speaking Russian, "Holy shit is this Katyusha?"

Before he could hear a response the phone was ripped out of his hands. "Алло? Алло? Катюша? Это Иван! Ты в порядке? Ты здесь?" (_Hello? Hello? Katyusha? It's Ivan! Are you alright? Are you there?_)

But the line was dead. Ivan almost broke it as he slammed the phone down in frustration. Alfred looked at him grimly, placing a hand on his shoulder in a hopefully comforting manner. Ivan shrugged it off and stormed off into the kitchen, leaving Alfred behind. Alfred didn't try to follow him.

Footsteps echoed as Toris came down the steps. "Alright, I'm leaving. Who called?" Alfred sprang up, glaring at the brunette the minute he reached the floor.

"A Russian chick. Is Ivan's sis calling you?" He demanded bluntly. He smirked triumphantly when Toris paled considerably at the accusation.

"Wh-what?"

"If Katyusha's been calling you then Ivan has the right to know." Alfred snapped, crossing his arms and leveling his former babysitter a stern look.

"I..I have to pick up my brothers." Toris excused himself quickly, escaping before Alfred could interrogate him further.

* * *

"Come on Matt. Just because you're brother's being a drama queen doesn't mean I have to suffer." The albino whined into the phone.

Matthew glared at the cell even though he knew Gilbert couldn't see him. The bastard was lucky. "Gil, I can't deal with this right now, ok?" Couldn't he be a bit more sympathetic?

"But Matt! You've been a bummer for the past two days! Its the first day of vacation, why can't you come over and hang out?" His boyfriend continued undeterred.

"Papa and Dad need me right now. You know that. You're coming over Saturday for Christmas Eve dinner so stop complaining."

"But Mat-" Matthew shut off his phone, throwing it at his bed before scurrying back downstairs to where he could smell Papa making dinner. He just couldn't deal with his insensitive boyfriend right now. He was still frustrated and pissed and he missed his brother way too much. As he entered the kitchen he couldn't help but sigh. Dad was moping again with a cup of tea.

"Aren't you suppose to be going out with Monsieur Gilbert, tonight?" Francis asked, watching as his son sat down beside his husband at the counter. If he started to mope here too he was going to have to do something. He just didn't know what. He himself was beginning to wear down from his son's absence, and the rest of his family's growing depression was not helping in the slightest.

"I'm not going."

Francis frowned, staring at the two sad males. "Enough of this already. How about I make a delicious dinner and than we all watch a movie together like we used to?"

"Alfred used to love movie night..." Arthur offered in his melancholic, "He'd always pick a horror movie and scare himself to death." He smiled fondly at the memory, "And then he'd beg to sleep in our bed, claiming he had to protect us from the ghosts..." He rubbed his tired eyes with his palms, "Where did I go so wrong?"

"Arthur arrêt ! Pour le derniere foi!" (_Stop! For the last time!_) Francis sighed, narrowing his eyes at the pair. "Matthieu, go find a movie we can all watch. Arthur, set the table. We are going to have a nice happy dinner!"

* * *

"Is something wrong Alfred?" Ivan whispered next to him as he ate. Alfred hesitated in answering him.

He looked around the dining room, seeing the three brothers talking to each other excitedly about their experiences over the last few months. They seemed so happy, as they laughed and retold stories around their meal. Alfred couldn't help but think of what his own family was having for dinner at this very moment...

"Nothing." He responded and after a moment continued, "...We can play the game tonight...If you want that is." He offered after he glanced back up at the happy smiling family.

He wasn't searching for a distraction or anything.

* * *

"Fuck this shit!" Alfred cursed, slamming his cards down. He stood up angrily and practically tore his pants in anger as he pulled them off. Ivan giggled in amusement from where he sat, completely clothed other than his bare feet.

"You're a cheat. There's no way you've never played before." Alfred accused, the only thing left on his person were his boxers. He had long stopped feeling embarrassed in front of Ivan after having to take off his shirt. Such feelings were quickly overshadowed by his frustration.

"Perhaps you are merely bad?" Ivan offered, his tone dripping with amusement. Alfred glared at him, crossing his arms as he sat back down.

"Shut up. Alright one more hand. I'm totally going to win this time." He snapped, shuffling the deck.

"Alfred, you only have one article of clothing left." Ivan pointed out but Alfred ignored him as he dealt the hand. It was over a few minutes later.

"Fuck! Why does life hate me?" He cried as he lost, yet again. Ivan merely giggled once more, extremely happy he had convinced the American to play with him. "Stop laughing! Its not fair! You only had to take your socks off!"

Ivan shrugged, "It is a fairly simple game. Now, shouldn't you be naked by now?"

Alfred flushed and stared down at himself, realizing that he_ really did_ only have his boxers on. "B-but-" He began to protest.

"Ah ah, Alfred. I warned you before hand. Now you must strip."

Alfred sent him a glare feeling his red blush extend to his very core. This so wasn't fair! This whole game was some communistic plot against freedom. If only he still had somethi-

He smirked.

"Fine. I'll take something off." He finally accepted, causing Ivan to look at him suspiciously. He had agreed much to quickly. With a shit eating grin the American slipped his glasses off and placed them on the table. "There!"

Ivan frowned in disappointment, "That is not right. Glasses do not count as clothing."

"They sure as hell do now." The American stated happily, his grin spreading across his face at the utter genius of his plan.

"Why are you embarrassed? I believed you said we were a couple. Doesn't that not mean that you should feel comfortable naked beside me?" Ivan pondered allowed, truly puzzled by the question.

"No! I'm not doin' anything like that any time soon! Sheesh, and don't act so high and mighty! You're the one whose always embarrassed about their body!" Alfred argued quickly.

"But that is because I am scarred. I'm not very appealing." Ivan replied easily with a shrug.

"So I am?" The blond snorted.

"Yes. You are very handsome." Ivan nodded in a matter of fact way.

Alfred flushed, not expecting the honest, blatant answer. Sure he always claimed he was the hottest man on Earth, but no one had ever actually agreed with him... "Erm... Wait! You don't think that you're hot?"

Ivan stared at him slightly perplexed, "Hot? I do not think I am hot... I am usually cold..." He didn't really understand the question. Why were they suddenly speaking of temperature?

"No, I mean, you don't think that you're like handsome?" Alfred corrected quickly, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"Nyet. You have seen my scars. I am too tall, too big. You have said so yourself, yes? My nose is big too, right?" Ivan reminded, listing the flaws the American made quite clear he suffered from.

Alfred paled. Shit, did Ivan take those insults seriously? Why was he such an asshole! "No! Dude, you're really hot—handsome! The scars don't matter! You're tall but that's ok and you're not big just muscular!"

Ivan tilted his head, "I do not understand... I thought you did not like my physical appearance?"

"Fuck no!" Alfred blurted out, getting redder by the minute. What exactly was he admitting? "I mean..." He moved toward the other, still sitting calmly on the floor across from him. The Russian came back into focus as he got closer, having become blurry from the removal of his glasses. "I just say crap when I'm angry. I don't mean it."

Ivan nodded slowly, still not really understanding but enjoying the sight before him. He really should get Alfred to strip more often...

Alfred bit his lip as Ivan remained silent. He really should watch what he said around other people. He was always messing things up. Like what he had said about Da—Arthur. No. Don't think about it. Don't think about it.

In order to follow that command he instinctively moved forward to kiss his...boyfriend. Ivan blinked in surprise but quickly responded. Alfred's arms found themselves looped around the others neck, still wrapped in his scarf, as he inched even closer to him. Soon he would be residing in his lap, not that either of them really minded.

There was just something about kissing Ivan that made Alfred want more. He didn't understand it. He'd kissed other people before. He'd kissed girls and found it to be kind of disgusting. He'd kissed guys, and sure he enjoyed it, but it was nothing like kissing Ivan.

Ivan fought back. Ivan pushed back. And Alfred loved that.

The American pulled back, separating their lips in order to catch his breath. Ivan looked at him, and he stared back into those unique violet pools. He didn't know why, maybe it was due to the others complaints of his own body, but he began to trace the others face with one of his fingers. The skin was softer than one would expect. It reminded him of something fragile, though Ivan looked anything but that.

As his digit ran along the length of the others nose, he couldn't help but place a chaste kiss on its tip. "And you're nose is fine." He assured. Ivan blinked at him, his cheeks turning the slightest shade pinker from the statement.

"Ha! I made ya blush!" Alfred said victoriously, poking the others nose for good measure. Ivan rolled his eyes but smiled, leaning forward to capture those delicious lips once more.

"And you are perfect." He said honestly. Really, Alfred was perfect, especially compared to himself. The boy was so pure, so full of life. He would make sure nothing ever spoiled his beauty, both physically and emotionally.

Alfred tensed slightly at the statement, biting his lip as he thought of his family. They didn't think he was all that perfect. In fact, they probably thought he was a screw up. Before he could dwell on it too much, though, he kissed the other again.

* * *

"You sure you're ok?" Alfred asked again and Ivan nodded quickly, trying to control his breathing.

"Da. I am fine."

Alfred frowned, rubbing the others back comfortingly. Every single night Ivan tossed and turned and shivered until Alfred managed to wake him up. He'd always ask if he was ok, but the other would always answer that he was fine and go back to sleep.

With a sigh, Alfred rolled onto his side as well, wishing there was more he could do.

* * *

It had been almost a week and still no Alfred. Christmas was in two days. Their Christmas Eve dinner was tomorrow. The Bonnefoy family was reaching its breaking point.

Arthur climbed up the stairs with heavy footsteps, his mind clogged up with regret and worry. He meant to turn into his own bedroom, to lie down on his bed. He really did. But instead, his traitorous feet lead him to his lost son's bedroom.

It was a mess, like always, and Arthur couldn't help but smile as he picked his way through the minefield of the floor. He resisted the urge to clean, finding comfort in the familiarity of Alfred's mess. Instead, he looked about the room. His eyes fell upon a few toy soldiers, once brilliantly painted but now a faded shadow of their former glory. His fingers traced against the wood, recalling each cut he had made so many years before.

He picked one of the soldiers up, smiling at the worn down face as images of his precious little Alfred swarmed in his mind. He had made him these toys during one of their first Christmas' together. The boy had been ecstatic and had rushed to hug him once he unwrapped his gift. He remembered he had hesitated in returning the hug but found he couldn't help but do so when Alfred repeated a mantra of 'Thank you Daddy' over and over again.

It had been early in their life as a family, a time where Matthew was still mostly shut in on himself and Alfred a little more shy. A time when he and Francis were still unsure about how to go on with two new additions. A time where misery was right outside the door and any little bit of happiness was greatly appreciated.

The fact that Alfred had called him Daddy so freely at the time had made him treasure the memory forever.

But that didn't matter anymore did it?

Alfred had said so himself, he wasn't his real father and he supposed he never really could be.

Arthur set the toy soldier down before he could damage it. His grip on the small wooden figure had tightened considerably during his inner musings. He sighed shakily, knowing he should really leave the stifling room for his own.

After one last long glance at the unmade bed he turned to the door.

And stepped on something that wasn't the floor.

This fact should not have been surprising. Alfred's floor was littered with carelessly thrown items so perhaps it was Arthur's subconcious willing him to stay in the room for a little while longer that lead him to pick up the offending item.

It was a sketch book, an old one he recalled Francis giving to the boys when they were much much younger. He flipped it opened and smiled at the simplistic drawings of superheroes, the boys' old orphanage with some nuns about and even themselves.

After a few flips, the pages became blank as he assumed Alfred lost interest and grew out of his short lived artistic phase. The Brit was about to put down the small book when a filled page caught his interest. He flipped back to it, finding it filled with some sort of plan having to do with Ivan (or at least he assumed so since his name appeared at the top of the page). It was scrawled haphazardly with doodles accompanying each point.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, wondering what all of this was about. He flipped the page for what he assumed was the continuation of this 'plan'.

When his eyes fell upon the page he imediately tensed.

Written in bold, angry marks and clearly legible were the words, 'Why Arthur Bonnefoy fucking sucks:'. Arthur swallowed dryly as he read on.

'He took away my games

He is super mean

He cant cook

He hates Ivan

He** thinks I'm stupid**

He treats me like a child

He is **never** proud of me

He** hates** me

**I fucking hate him too.'**

"Arthur?"

Arthur whirled around, clutching the drawing pad to his chest as he stared at Francis peaking in through the doorway. "Arthur, what's wrong? Are you..crying?"

The Brit's hand immediately shot up to touch his face, finding it surprisingly wet. Francis took a step forward with concern shining in his eyes and Arthur stared at him. "He hates me." He whispered finally.

"Non he does not. He is a teenager, they just say that in the spur of the moment." He assured. He was doing way too much 'assuring' and 'reassuring' these days.

"You're wrong. He's hated me long enough to write up a list why! Who knows how long he's abhorred me! Am I really that horrible?" _Horrible enough to actually hit your own son, you bastard._ His mind reminded him.

"Arthur, what are you talking about?" The Frenchman asked, confused.

"This!" He shoved the drawing pad into Francis' chest, wiping his eyes furiously because damn it he was a grown man!

Francis looked down at the item, pulling it back so he could skim the page. His face grew grimmer as he did so. "Arthur, he doesn't mean it." He said quickly, after he had finished reading it.

"He thinks I find him stupid! He doesn't think I'm proud of him. He wishes I didn't adopt him!" Arthur cried out. How could the frog not see it? Alfred wasn't coming home, and why should he? It seemed as if this was hell on earth for him! And all because of Arthur.

And suddenly Francis snapped. He ripped the page out of the sketch pad stuffing it into his pocket. He dropped the pad in favor of gripping Arthur shoulder's angrily. "Enough of this wallowing in despair! I am sick of you two fighting! I refuse to have this family crumble apart because of something so stupid! I will get Alfred home right this instant and you will apologize to each other!"

"But he hat-"

" Arrêt ! Ça suffit!" (_Stop! That's enough!) _ Francis growled, leaving the man behind as he stomped down the stairs. Matthew looked over at his father worriedly as he snatched his coat from the hook. He didn't like what was going on, didn't like that his passive father was being so out of character. Dad was the one that got angry. Dad was the one that threw a tantrum.

Papa was the calm understanding one. But Papa was furious and it frightened the teen to no end. Still, he was sick of his brother's absence as well and made no move to stop the Frenchman as he exited the home, slamming the door shut behind me.

* * *

Alfred groaned as he tried to make sense of his stupid Spanish homework. No le gusta! He didn't even know why Ivan insisted on starting their homework when they still had like, two weeks left of break. Usually, he would start his mountain of homework the night before school started.

"I do not understand. Why is it spelled 'through' instead of 'threw'? I thought 'threw' was a word." Ivan asked, looking up from his difficult English homework.

"It is. Like 'threw' is the past version of 'to throw' and 'through' spelled with a 'gh' is like 'through this this happened'..." Alfred tried to explain with a bit of difficulty. Ivan frowned at his attempted explanation, glaring at the phrase written on his worksheet.

"English is a very dumb language." He finally decided before leaning down to fix the sentence.

Alfred rolled his eyes, "At least we use the right alphabet." He snapped, turning back to his Spanish homework, trying to remember if a certain word had an accent. He hated accents. Accents shouldn't even exist in the world.

"The Cyrillic alphabet is perfectly fine." Ivan defended, erasing another word on his page.

"Cyril-whats-it? Yeah, no thanks. I'd rather stick to my ABCs."

"It is very simple, really. A is like a, Ƃ is like b, B is like v-" He spoke as he wrote the familiar letters on the page. It wasn't like he was handing it in so he didn't think the teacher would mind if he wrote on the back.

"Woah! Creepy squiggly makes the 'b' sound but an actual B makes a 'v'? That's so stupid!" Alfred cried, staring at the foreign letters. No wonder English was the best, it was the only one that made sense!

"Perhaps English is the stupid one." Yet Ivan still didn't seem to understand that point.

"Then how is it the number one language in the world?" The American goaded feeling triumphant.

"Not for long, Spanish is getting much more popular." The taller teen pointed out easily enough.

"Yeah, but Russian is still super low on the list. Cause its dumb."

"I will not argue over something of so little importance."

Alfred was about to exclaim victory in their little argument when the doorbell rang about the house, making him close his mouth. Toris had left with his brothers for some reason or another that he could care less about. He was more interested in eating his breakfast and trying to question Toris at the time. When did the brunette get so good at evading questions? It was so annoying!

Ivan stood up at the sound of the bell and Alfred did as well. They wandered to the front door and Ivan unlocked it easily. He never bothered to check beforehand, mostly because he was pretty sure he could kill whoever happened upon Toris' doorstep. Their teenage eyes widened at the sight of Alfred's french father before hand. Ivan was surprised with his presence, believing that if anyone were to come, it would be the angry disagreeable one.

Alfred was much more alarmed by the fact that his Papa was angry.

Furious, even.

"Papa?" Alfred asked trying to sound stern and confident. It came out shaky and nervous.

Papa never got angry at him or Matthew. Never.

Blue eyes narrowed, "You are coming home. Now."

* * *

I AM SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT!  
My excuse comes in four parts!  
Part 1: Homework is a bitch  
Part 2: AP classes are a bitch. Especially since exams are almost here. Holy shit I'm freaking out.  
Part 3: I got injured -.-  
Part 4: FF has been a bitch lately. I think its fixed now though.

So yeah, I hope this chapter is acceptable. I'm not happy with it. But I'm never happy with any of my chapters.  
Next chapter, Alfred and Arthur talk and there is drama~

I find it interesting that like, the majority of you guys hate Artie... He's harsh because he sees himself in Alfred, sees that rebellious punk within him. He fears he'll make the same mistakes as he did if he isn't firm with him. He's not very good with emotions. Thats why he acts the way he does. Or at least, that's what I think.

Thank you guys so much for your patience and your reviews full of love and support! Updating is going to be difficult but in May, once APs are done, I'll be able to return to my normal schedule! Thanks for being so understanding!

I love you all forever and ever!


	34. Chapter 33

Alfred stared at his father in shock before narrowing his eyes. He had expected Arthur to come down here and try to force him to go home but never his Papa. Still, he crossed his arms, putting up a brave front. "No."

"I am sick of this nonsense. You will come home this instance." Francis replied strictly. His voice was serious, absent of all its normal humor and softness. Alfred clenched his fists at his side, feeling his resolve begin to weaken. He really did want to go home. He missed it a lot but no. He refused! He would go when he himself wanted to!

"You can't make me! I'm staying right here." He yelled, stomping a foot for good measure. He didn't expect the response he got.

Francis grit his teeth, coming forward in a flash in order to grab his son's arm and yank him forward. Now at the same level height wise, he stared straight into his son's nervous blue eyes. "I am sick of your selfish behavior. You are coming home right now. You will talk to Arthur and settle this out and we will have a wonderful Christmas! Do you understand me!"

Alfred stared at his father with wide frightened eyes. He had never seen him so angry. He didn't know what to do.

"Do you understand me?" Francis repeated and his voice got even darker, if that were possible.

"Y-yes." Alfred finally stuttered out, nodding his head to back up his verbal claim. Francis released his hold and straightened himself up.

"Good. Get in the car." The American hesitated a moment but a firm glare had hims scurrying to the vehicle. Ivan ground his teeth. He did not like this. Alfred should be free to make his own decisions. He never felt this way towards the nicer French father.

"If he does not wish to leave then he can stay." The Russian snapped at the elder.

"Ivan. You are not a part of our family, this does not concern you." Francis retorted irritably before stalking to his car. Ivan tightened his fists, debating internally whether he could punch him without having Alfred become angry with him. The risk seemed to great and before he could decide the car had sped away.

Alfred didn't make eye contact the entire ride home. He looked out of the window, hoping to God something kept them from reach there home. He quickly regretted that wish as he caught sight of his father's cast, still wrapped around his left leg. He didn't want anything like that ever to happen again.

Maybe if he spoke and reasoned with him he wouldn't be in so much trouble? Francis was always the understanding one. He would let him off easy.

"Pap-"

"No talking. I don't want to hear it." Francis snapped, surprising Alfred. Francis always advocated for talking it out. He never told him to shut up.

Alfred fell silent, looking through the window and become progressively angrier the closer he got to his house. They were the ones that were being unfair and selfish! Not him! Arthur had hit him! He didn't want to be yelled at again. He didn't want to deal with him. He was the right one! He wanted to go back to Ivan because at least he understood and sided with him. No one ever sided with him.

The minute he got home he would just scream at Arthur and lock himself in his room. Therefore he couldn't get yelled at back. Maybe he could even climb out of the window and sneak out. He just didn't want to see Arthur's fac-

The house came into view much faster than he expected.

* * *

Francis opened the door, ushering the younger into the home with little ceremony. It looked startlingly the same as when he had left. For some reason Alfred had felt it would have changed completely after his absence.

"Arthur! Matthieu! Vien ici!" (_Come here!_) Francis called into the house, motioning Alfred into the family room. The American heard the tell tale sound of footsteps coming down the steps. Well here it comes. Time for the yelling. He braced himself, thinking of something angry to say that would give him enough time to storm up to his bedroom.

A moment later, Arthur stepped into the room and stared at him. Literally stared at him with wide green eyes. "Alfred?" It was said softly, almost in disbelief and all of Alfred's arguments died in his throat.

The Englishman hurried forward, stopping just in front of the younger teen. He raised his hand and Alfred flinched, causing the Brit to frown further. He didn't hit him. Instead, his hand touched the others cheek softly, apologetically.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked softly, worry was extremely apparent in his green eyes.

Alfred blinked. He could have said no, he could have cursed him out, but he just couldn't. "Yeah, I'm ok. It doesn't hurt."

"I'm sorry, I never should have done that ever." Arthur apologized.

Alfred stared at him in disbelief. Arthur almost never apologized so readily! He couldn't stop himself from quickly assuring, "It's ok."

Arthur shook his head, taking a step back. "No, it's not."

Alfred didn't know what to say. He had expected to be yelled at, to argue all night long but he'd only been home for a minute and Arthur had already apologized.

"Arthur." Francis urged with a frown from the doorway. The matter was not done yet.

"I... I apologize for yelling at you so much. I will allow you to see Ivan if you promise to be careful." Arthur hesitantly sighed out, not looking his son in the eyes. He still didn't approve of the relationship. But, it seemed he was adamant on dating the Russian and he would rather have him live at home and not at Toris'.

"R-really?" Alfred couldn't even believe his ears. This was so amazingly awesome! He couldn't wait to tell Ivan!

"Yes." Arthur looked down at his shoes, "I-I..." He couldn't even ask the next part. It hurt too much.

Francis stepped forward, sensing his husband's pain. He pulled out the piece of paper that had crumpled in his pocket, "Is this true Alfred?" He asked, passing the page to him.

Alfred recognized it immediately and he suddenly felt like shit. He shook his head, looking to his parents and feeling even worse at how horrible his dad looked, "No! I mean, I was angry when I wrote this and-"

"Alfred. I never ever could hate you. You know that right yes?" Arthur whispered, hurt prevalent in his voice.

Alfred bit his lip, "I... It's just you're always yelling!"

"I don't mean too! It's just frustrating! But that could never make me hate you!" Arthur defended quickly.

"Then why do you treat me like I'm an idiotic screw up!" Alfred snapped, because it was true. Sometimes it did feel like his dad didn't like him.

"I never do! Sometimes it seems as if you don't apply yourself. I worry for you."

"I do try! I try all the time! I'm sorry I'm not the genius you wanted!"

"Stop saying that!" Arthur yelled. That wasn't true. How could that ever be true?

"But its true! Even if I try I still won't get As so what does it matter? All you do is yell at me for failing and if I do succeed you accuse me of cheating!"

"I-" Arthur floundered, unable to get any word in.

"You're never proud of me and it—it-it _hurts._" Alfred finally blurted out, because it did. It really did. He felt his eyes watering at the mere statement spoken from his lips.

"Sometimes you act irresponsible, and sometimes you frustrate me to no end," Arthur spoke quietly but carefully, looking deeply into those hurt blue eyes, "But I could _never_ not be proud of you."

Alfred stared at him. He couldn't do anything else.

Arthur faltered at the lack of reaction, suddenly fearing he had said something wrong yet again, "I just want whats best for you Alfred. I... I don't know what I'm doing, ok? You're right, I'm not your father and I-"

"You are my Dad!" Alfred quickly shouted, surprising the Brit. "You'll always be my Dad! I didn't mean it! I'm sorry! I don't hate you ok? I was just... I was just mad and stuff!" He just couldn't bear seeing him say he wasn't his father. He just couldn't. "Sam Jones might be my biological father but he isn't my Dad and never will be. Its you. Just you. I love you Dad."

Francis gave Arthur a push and that was all the Brit needed to hug his once tiny boy tightly. His heart just surged at those words. Especially when his sons arms reciprocated the hug and almost suffocated him. He didn't mind though. "Don't you ever run off like that again." He whispered into his ear, and Alfred nodded into his shoulder.

* * *

"Hey Matt!" Gilbert greeted into his cell.

"Hey Gil—Stop it Al!" Matthew giggled into the phone, pawing at the others hand. Alfred was attempting to get the phone out of his hand, only succeeding in annoying him.

"Oh good, hes back. You sound happier." Gilbert commented. His cute little boyfriend had been so depressed when Alfred had left. That had translated into Matthew not wanting to leave the house and therefore not wanting to see him which was totally not awesome.

"Yeah."

"So, can I come over early?" Gilbert asked, rolling on his back on the couch. He was so bored. He wanted to see Matthew so badly, maybe have some fun before dinner. He had deprived for almost a week!

"I don't think you can. Al and I are hanging out and helping Dad and Papa prepare. Just come at around 6." Matthew answered, seemingly oblivious to his boyfriends eagerness to come over.

"But I haven't seen you since Tuesday!" The albino reasoned with a whine. It wasn't fair!

"Hey, Gilbo. You're gonna deal, k? Bros before hos. BTW you're the ho."Alfred had finally succeeded in stealing his brother's cell, cackling at the Prussian's misfortune before hanging up.

"Al! That was mean." Matthew scolded, though he couldn't hide his smile. He was just happy his brother was back to annoy and torment him.

"Come on, Mattie! We're suppose to be having fun!" Alfred defended with his normal carefree grin.

"No. We're suppose to be helping Papa and Dad set up." The younger corrected.

"Yeah yeah. Whatever!"

Matthew rolled his eyes but smiled none the less. He really had missed his brother terribly. The house had been so dark and lonely without his vibrant presence.

"Alfred! Matthew!" Arthur called up the stairs, "Help set the table and then you can play!"

"Alright Dad!" Alfred called back, standing up from his bed.

The pair trotted down the steps, taking in the heavenly aroma wafting from the kitchen. They spotted Arthur in the living room, tidying up the area. Their father was legally obligated to stay at least a 9 feet radius from the kitchen whenever Papa was cooking such a special dinner, less he ruin it with his British-ness. (Arthur of course had vehemently argued this fact until the Thanksgiving Dinner a few years ago when he had accidentally dumped a whole vial of salt into the stuffing and then caused a fire by turning up the oven temperature to the highest degree with his elbow while trying to dig out the aforementioned from the meal. It is unneccesary to state that the family did not have turkey that evening and that Arthur apologized by buying a new _adult_ outfit for himself. The children didn't see much of the two for the rest of the weekend.)

"Over here!" Francis called from the kitchen, directing his boys to where he had pulled out the fancy dinner plates. The twins nodded, each taking a pile to set the table.

* * *

"Wheres Alfred?" Toris asked, coming into the house with his brothers in toe.

"He returned home." Ivan responded with a frown.

"Oh? I'm glad, I didn't know how the dinner party tonight would go if they were still having troubles..."

"Ah, right... I forgot about the dinner." That would be the perfect time to give it to him instead of coming over again on Christmas day.

Even though Ivan had been saddened at the fact that Alfred had left his home he was somewhat relieved. Alfred could get very tiring and his clingy nature kept him from wrapping up his gift. He had gotten him one the minute Alfred reminded him it was a gift giving holiday a few weeks ago. He truly hoped he would like it.

"Its not for another few hours, you do not have to worry." Toris assured, going to leave the room before pausing suddenly. "I.. Er...Your birthday is coming up... Do you have anything in mind?"

Ivan tilted his head in confusion at the question, "I do not understand."

"Like, do you want to have a party—Or I guess have Alfred over? I mean..I-"

"A party? Is that what Americans do for birthdays?" Ivan asked.

"Its what most people do..."

"Nyet, I am fine." He knew his birthday was the 30th of December but he had never really celebrated it. Katyusha would merely tell him that it was his birthday, give him an extra loving hug and kiss and that was all. But in America you were to have a party of sorts? Well, he had no interest in that, but any excuse for the American to come over was welcome.

Toris frowned but nodded, leaving the room quietly. His fingers clenched and twisted the fabric of his shirt nervously. He hoped to God she knew what she was doing.

* * *

Alfred laughed at his brother, folding a napkin to be placed on the table as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He slipped it out, opening it without really looking at the caller.

"Hello?" He spoke into the phone, moving away from his brother who was threatening to slap him playfully for his comment about Gilbert.

"Alfred?"

Blue eyes lit up in recognition as he heard the familiar voice, "Ivan! Whats up?" Matthew rolled his eyes and Alfred waved him off with his hand while sticking his tongue out.

"You sound happy." Ivan was both happy and slightly irritated. For one, he enjoyed Alfred happy and vibrant. Yet, he wasn't the one making him happy right now and that thought made him slightly angry. He ignored it.

"Yeah, everything's cool again. Thanks for letting me stay over for so long."

"It is nothing. I wanted to ask you to come over again on the 30th."

Alfred raised an eyebrow, "Uh...Sure I guess. Any reason?" Why was Ivan being so specific?

"Nothing important. I just want to see you."

Alfred blushed slightly his smile growing even if he didn't wish it too, "You're so weird... Yeah, I'll be over. You know, you could have just asked me later tonight!"

"I felt it was important."

"Right, anyway I gotta go. Mattie's gettin' mad at me for not helping. I'll see you soon, k?"

"Da."

Alfred hung up with a smile, turning back around toward his brother who looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" Alfred snapped slightly defensively. Shit, he probably looked like a lovesick school girl.

"So... What _did_ you do at Ivan's for a week?" Matthew asked, his lips tugging into a little smirk.

"Shut up. I didn't do anything like that! We just kinda hung out, watched TV, slept toget-"

"You slept together!" Matthew nearly dropped his plates, eyes wide in shock. It was a good thing that even though Matthew was yelling it was still at a low volume, or else his father might have heard him.

"No! I didn't! Not like that! I meant, we slept in the same bed but all we did was sleep!" Alfred quickly defended, a blush rising to his cheeks. "And I wore pajamas and everything! Not just boxers, except for when we played strip poker and-"

"You stripped for him!"

"No! I mean..Sort of! I didn't want to but I lost like every hand!" The elder stuttered out. He hated being on the spot.

"Alfred, are you trying to tell me that you spent and entire week with your boyfriend sleeping in his bed and stripping and didn't do anything?"

"Hey! The stripping part was just the once. I don't know... we kissed and stuff but... I don't know its just kinda complicated."

"What is?"

"Everything." He let out heavily, his hand running through his hair nervously.

"Are you still trying to deny the fact that you like him?" Matthew sighed giving him an unamused look.

"No! I like him! I like him a lot!" Alfred said almost instantly and he covered his mouth. Matthew raised his brows and smiled, happy his brother was finally being honest with himself. "Its just...I'm a little.." _Scared._ Even if heroes were never scared. It was just,he didn't know if he should be getting so close to Ivan, if he should still want to kiss him, to touch him after learning what he had done. Was something wrong with him?

"A little what?"

Alfred sighed, this was something he just couldn't tell his brother, and it killed him. "I can't tell you. I'm sorry, its just—never mind I'll figure it out myself."

Matthew gave him a skeptical look but didn't press. He frowned, finishing setting the table by placing the final plate. Alfred remained silent, following his brother out of the room and into the family room. His eyes caught sight of a few of the wrapped gifts, sitting beneath the decorated tree.

"Shit."

"Huh?" Matthew glanced back at him at the sound of the curse.

"I forgot. I completely forgot. Oh my God! I'm so so so sorry Mattie! I didn't get you anything! Or Dad, or Papa!"

Matthew's eyes softened, "It's ok, Al. I'm just glad your home."

Alfred bit his lip, feeling guilt pool into his stomach because of his stupid forgetfulness.

"I know," Matthew offered, hoping to ease his brothers guilt. "Promise you'll treat Gil nicer from now on. That would be a great gift."

Alfred grimaced at the thought, it left a bad taste in his mouth. Still, he didn't have much choice and sighed. "Fine." He drew the word out, showing his displeasure and Matthew rolled his eyes.

"Boys! Is the table set?" Arthur yelled from the living room, "If so go get changed!"

* * *

Alfred put on his Sunday best with no qualms (the only time of the year when he never complained about the stuffy restrictive clothing) and descended the stairs to where Arthur was fussing with the living room to pass the time.

"When are they getting here?" He asked, impatiently, coming over to his father's side.

"Soon." Arthur responded, lifting his head up from his work to take in his son's appearance. Alfred was wearing his nice black dress pants along with a light blue button down shirt that brought out his eyes brilliantly. With a critical eye Arthur smoothed down his shirt, his pants and fussed with him instead of the room. It was very annoying. He let him be though, he didn't want to fight. Not now. They were both trying to be on their best behavior. Alfred had promised not to pick fights and Arthur had promised to try not to yell so much. It was when he licked one of his fingers in a quest to calm that damnable stray hair that Alfred thought best he should stop.

"Dad, stop it." He said calmly, trying to push the hand away.

"I just wish you would let me cut that thing off, or at least gel it into place." The older man sighed, glaring at the cow lick before letting his hand drop. Alfred laughed lightly, playing with the strand with his hand. He let it go and it returned to its stubborn upright position.

"I don't know, I like it."

Arthur rolled his eyes and turned away, hiding his pleasant smile. He really had missed his son so much, stray hair and all.

The doorbell jolted the peace in the room and Arthur quickly made his way over. He had barely anytime to open it when Gilbert all but threw himself inside to find his boyfriend. Arthur ignored it and turned to the two others still waiting on the door step, seemingly oblivious to the fact the door had opened.

"I have plenty of gel, why won't you let me calm it down?" Ludwig growled, twirling the irate curl in his lover's hair. Feliciano, red in the face, tried to pull away from the touch.

"Ludwig! Stop doing that, please!" He begged in his whiny voice. The German never seemed to understand what happened when he touched the sensitive curl.

Arthur let out an awkward cough, making the pair look up quickly. Feliciano got redder, Ludwig frowned awkwardly and Alfred couldn't help but laugh loudly at the entire situation. His input didn't help very much. Feliciano quickly scurried inside, thanking Arthur excessively and handing him a wine bottle as a gift.

Arthur blinked a few times, accepting the gift awkwardly before turning to greet Ludwig into his home. By then, the bubbly Italian had attached himself to Alfred in a warm hug. The younger had laughed as Feliciano spouted compliments of how nice he looked and how much he had grown.

The attention would have gone on for much longer if a smooth French voice had not called a greeting from the kitchen. Feliciano quickly ran off to say hello to Francis, abandoning his boyfriend to awkwardly nod at Alfred before following after him.

Alfred decided to walk toward the kitchen as well, since that was where all the action was anyway. Feliciano was fluttering about the kitchen, looking at the food and asking about recipes. Francis spoke excitedly with him, telling him of new spices he'd tried. It was always funny to see them get so excited about exchanging tips and recipes for different meals.

In the dining room, Gilbert had his arms draped around Matthew, whispering something into his ear. The younger twin, who was trying to put finishing touches on the table, was getting progressively redder as he spoke.

Alfred did not like that all. But, he _had_ promised to be nicer to the albino... Then he caught sight of a pale hand running down his brothers back side to his-.

Well, a hero couldn't just stand there and let his brother be taken advantage of, now could he?

"Hey! Gil, care to share?" He snapped crossing his arms and making his presence in the room apparent. Gilbert looked up, shit eating grin still in place. He didn't move his hand either.

"So, Alfred is back! You gonna treat us like people again instead of just ignoring our very existence?" Matthew elbowed him, giving him a scolding look.

Alfred frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly but before he could retort back the door bell rang through the home.

"That's probably Ivan." Matthew reminded, hoping Alfred would leave and go get the door so the two didn't start fighting. Could he ever have any peace?

"Yeah, you should probably go hurry over to your precious little snowflake." Gilbert cackled and Alfred made sure to send him a threatening look that promised a beating if he didn't shut his mouth.

Arthur had already answered the door, greeting Toris awkwardly after all that had happened in the recent week. Toris had already started apologizing for anything and everything when Eduard quickly tried to calm him down. Arthur shook the middle brother's hand, hoping he was doing well at his University before doing the same with the youngest boy.

He almost closed the door after him if Ivan didn't make himself apparent on his footsteps. Arthur's grip tightened on the doorknob before he opened the door wider for the teen. Ivan entered and the atmosphere seemed so much more tenser. Arthur didn't know what to say without getting Alfred angry with him again so he remained quiet.

Alfred, being the hero of course, quickly saved the situation by running over to the Russian and greeting him. Ivan bent down to give him a kiss but was merely tugged away, feeling green eyes bore into his back.

"No kiss?"

"Not in front of Dad. It makes him angry." Alfred whispered, for once not wanting to incite his father's anger.

"And that is bad why? He is always angry." The Russian tilted his head in confusion. Alfred frowned at the comment, tightening his grip on the other. His Dad wasn't _always_ angry...

"I just want everyone to be happy tonight. Just one big happy family." That's all he ever wanted, really.

Ivan didn't argue with the quiet voice. He wanted Alfred to be happy always and if that meant not inciting anger for the night then so be it. The only problem was, he had no idea how to act as if they were 'one big happy family'. He never really had any experience.

He hoped he didn't mess anything up.

* * *

Le gasp! A new chapter! Could it be true? Is the wait finally over? Are we back on schedule?  
Yes. Yes we are. Weekly updates once more! Oh I'm so happy to be back.  
Now watch me not be able to update next Sunday because of some freak accident T.T  
Well, hopefully were back on schedule.

Anyway, I actually don't like this chapter at all. Idk why. I just don't.  
Next chapter, we have a dinner which in this story means something about someones past is revealed :o (seriously, go back dinner=exposition)

Anyway, thank you all so much for reviewing. It really does make me come back and update. And I really do want to see this to the end and your support makes it all the easier!

This AN is way too long. I'm a go now. Thanks for reading, hope you liked the family reunion and I'll see you all Sunday!

* * *

Oh, BTW: I wrote a new Chapter to Sentenced. (That story gets no love from me). Its not even a real chapter, its all smex... So if you follow that story go check it out and see how much I suck at writing lemony things.


	35. Chapter 34

Arthur took a deep breath, closing the door carefully. He couldn't get angry. Especially at Alfred. Not tonight. At least not until after Christmas. He wouldn't be able to take it if he ran off again so soon. His son obviously cared for the violent teen and he had to respect his feelings. At least for now.

"Arthur! Stop being a cypher and socialize. Dinner is almost ready." Francis called from the kitchen in his annoying (sexy) sing song voice of his. Arthur ground his teeth. He was not a cypher! He simply enjoyed being alone more than being with other people.

Still, he obediently left the door for the kitchen, if only to be the gentleman he boasted to be. It wasn't polite to have guests over and not entertain them. He had to be a gracious host. A model for his sons-

Alfred had his arms around Ivan as they made out right there in front of him in the middle of the hallway. Arthur's eyes widened at the sight, and he felt his anger boil. He had just arrived and already they were eating each others faces off. This was a Christmas Eve dinner for God's sake! At least they weren't doing it in front of the other guests.

Alfred seemed to notice his presence, breaking from the kiss and pushing away at his boyfriend. Ivan let go with a frown, backing off. He wondered what had made him stop when he turned to see Arthur glaring at them. The man always got in the way.

"Sorry Dad. Don't get mad! I didn't think you were looking...I" Alfred stumbled over his words, an embarrassed flush appearing on his cheeks.

Arthur stiffened, "I'm not mad." He quickly stated, as if to save himself. "Let's just all behave tonight, yes?" Alfred nodded, pushing away from Ivan to go to the dinner table in the other room. Ivan sent Arthur a scalding glare as they walked, and even though Arthur didn't turn around he could tell by his clenched fists he had felt it.

Sure, Alfred had said no kissing and no touching but Ivan easily persuaded him into one with the excuse that his English father wasn't even there. Or at least, he wasn't at the time. Frankly, Ivan didn't even fully comprehend why they were hiding it in the first place.

The Brit quickly excused himself once more to go check on something in the closet. The Russian was making him nervous with his dark looks. Before, he could lash out at him or do something. But right now he had to behave, even though there was just something about Ivan that made him anxious. Especially that glare he kept sending him, the disrespectful brute.

He rubbed his temples, wondering if he was going to start getting gray hairs from all the stress he'd been suffering. Then he'd look the age Alfred seemed to think he was. He wasn't an old man for God sakes. He was still young! He could throw-

Today was just not his day.

He had stepped into the hall to go toward the closet only to find his other son making out with the rude albino. Did anyone understand the concept of a formal Christmas Eve dinner?

Matthew squeaked in surprise when he saw him glaring, pushing his boyfriend away and apologized three times before dragging a complaining Prussian back to the dinner table.

Clearly, Francis was corrupting them way too much. How much influence did he wield over them? Had they inherited anything from him? Francis was a horrible model! He was turning their sons into—into promiscuous beings just like himself. There were uglier words to say but he could never say them when speaking of his babies.

"Arthur, dinner is ready! Come join us." The bad influence called lightly from the kitchen. Right, he needed to entertain. Clearly his sons needed to learn how to behave properly when there was company and Francis was doing a horrid job of showing them proper behaviors. So, he straitened himself and returned to the dining table ready to have a nice, happy dinner.

* * *

Ivan did not like this new arrangement one bit. Alfred had gotten mad at him for kissing him twice now, repeating that he didn't want their father to see. Wasn't this the same boy who kissed him harshly in front of his father on purpose only a few weeks ago? He understood he didn't want him to get angry but damn it, they were in a relationship and he had every right to kiss him whenever he wished.

Along with the fact that he'd spent a week kissing Alfred as much as he wanted only to be cut off suddenly. The other was addicting. His soft lips moving against his own, the sweet taste of his mouth, the warmth that exuded out of his body comforting him whenever he was enveloped in his embrace. He needed that. It kept him grounded. He didn't know how he had kept calm without that heat present beside him. All he wanted was to grab the others face and ravage his mouth but no, they couldn't upset Alfred's English father.

It was always his fault. Alfred was mad because of him. Sad because of him. Hurt because of him. And now distant because of him. If only he could just eliminate him.

He couldn't though, and he had to remember that.

So, he tried to behave himself as he sat at the crowded table beside Alfred.

And when he said crowded, he meant _crowded._ The table was meant for at most six people. They were eleven. Arthur sat at the head of the table while Francis sat opposite of him. On the right side, Matthew, Gilbert, Ludwig and Feliciano were squished together. But on his side, they were even more. Next to Arthur and beside himself was Alfred, and on his other side was Toris' youngest brother, Raivis. Beside him was Eduard and finally Toris.

Ivan did not like the arrangement one bit. He took out his frustrations by sending glares matched with creepy smiles to little Raivis. It seemed to be working because the boy could not stop shaking. It amused him greatly to see the smaller one tremble in fear, just because of a look from his dark violet eyes.

It distracted him from his intense urge to touch Alfred more.

Speaking of which, had Alfred just brushed his leg? He glanced over, seeing him focusing entirely on his meal and giving him no attention. He pouted, placing a hand on the others thigh, making him jolt. Alfred sent him a scolding look and brushed the hand away.

Ivan pouted even further, placing his hand on the nice thigh once again.

"Ivan, stop it." Alfred hissed, moving it away again.

"Why? He can not see it." He whispered back but Alfred ignored him, going back to his food. The Russian decided to pin a glare at the one who caused it all, the others selfish unloving English father. Except, the man ignored him completely, seemingly engaged in a conversation (argument) with his husband. So, he decided to turn to his other neighbor.

"Hello Raivis." He whispered to his guardian's brother who almost jumped out of his skin when he was addressed so suddenly.

"H-Hello Ivan." He stammered quickly, the hand holding his fork was shaking horribly.

"You seem very nervous, Raivis. Do I make you nervous?" Ivan asked, his smile growing though his gleaming teeth remained hidden.

"Er, n-no! O-Of course not!" The petit blond quickly assured, his eyes darting about the room. "I'm j-just not feeling too well."

"Oh? You are sick? Let me feel your temperature." Ivan said in feigned concern as the others eyes widened. The boy panicked when the Russian placed a hand on his forehead, placing pressure.

"Hmmm, you seem to be a little warm." The taller mused, his hand traveling up into the golden hair. Raivis squeaked as he felt the other pressing down on him and he dropped his fork in fright. Ivan leaned forward, his lips close to the others ear, "You know Raivis, you might have a heart attack if you do not stop shaking, or maybe something even worse..."

Raivis stood up with a start, his chair clattering to the floor, yelling out an apology before fleeing from the scene. It was just to much. "Raivis!" Eduard shouted after his younger brother, quickly excusing himself to go see what was the matter. Ivan smiled as everyone watched him run away shocked, oblivious to what had just been happening.

Well, except for one.

He felt himself being jabbed in the side by an elbow and turned toward Alfred who was glaring at him. He tilted his head innocently.

"What the hell was that?" Alfred hissed, crossing his arms and paying attention to him instead of his food. How nice.

"What do you mean?" The Russian replied, feigning any knowledge of wrong doing.

"I saw what you did to Raivis! You had your hands all over him and you were whispering in his ear." Alfred growled, flushing slightly. "I'm your fucking boyfriend! You can't do that stuff with other people."

"I was not doing anything. But, for that matter, you refuse to let me touch you at all." Ivan snapped back.

"Just for tonight! That doesn't mean you can just go and manhandle someone else!" Alfred retorted angrily. He wasn't jealous though, or anything. "You already went against what I had said. If I don't want you to touch me then you can't touch me!"

Ivan narrowed his eyes. He should be allowed to touch him at all times. No matter what. He stood up suddenly and grabbed the others wrist, dragging him away from the dinner table, amid protests by Alfred. (The American was hoping his brother would save him but he seemed to consumer in an argument his boyfriend was having to care.) Ivan tugged him harder along. Alfred needed to understand the he was Ivan's in the same way that Ivan was his.

* * *

The other side of the dinner table was faring no better. Matthew himself was giving his own boyfriend the cold shoulder after being caught by his stern father. It was so embarrassing, especially since Arthur knew they were, erm, _sexually_ active (God, how he hated that term). It put Gilbert in a less than awesome mood, that was for sure. In fact it put him in a damn right suckish mood. Well, more than he had been feeling recently.

Damn it. Why hadn't Matthew let him visit him at least once this past week? He really needed him. He still needed him. He just wanted to talk to him. Just tell him something that was weighing down on him. But Matthew had refused to see him for almost the entire week. He had even called today to see him earlier than the dinner party to talk but again he was refused. Then, when he had arrived for the dinner party he had been to nervous to talk to him about it and instead tried to ignore the issue by kissing those delicious lips of his. It wasn't fair. Damn it! Why'd he have to look through her stuff? Why'd he have to find that letter?

"Gilbert, don't pick your food." Ludwig scolded quietly from beside him and the albino sent him a glare. He looked down at his plate, noticing he had barely eaten anything. He wasn't even paying attention to Arthur and Francis dinner arguments which were always entertaining. He guessed he just wasn't in the mood for it.

"Leave me alone West." He snapped back and Ludwig sent him a glare. The elder was about to reply when Raivis ran off. Well, that was odd. Still, he thought best to ignore the slight disturbance and set his eyes back upon his son.

"Don't speak to me like that. And must you call me that?" He sighed, with a slight grimace.

"Just because I learned the word from her doesn't make it horrible!" The Prussian growled out, surprising his father and drawing the concerned attention of Matthew and Feliciano.

"Gilbert-"

"Yeah, I know she's a fucking bitch and I know you don't want to think of her and me using that word makes you think for her but that's not why I use it and I don't see why you can't just let it go. She left. She hates us. Who the fuck even cares anymore. I certainly don't. I feel totally fucking awesome." Gilbert babbled, angrily in frustration and stabbed at his food with unnecessary force.

Ludwig stared at him, "Gilbert, she doesn't hate you."

"Then why'd she leave!" Gilbert shouted, throwing his fork at the table and turning to him. The elder blond looked at him in surprise.

"She didn't want to stay with me, that's why she left. It had nothing to do with you, Gilbert." He assured quickly.

"Then why did she try to fucking abort me!"

Ludwig paled, and that was all Gilbert needed to know it was fucking true. He snapped his chair back, storming away from the table.

"Gil!" Matthew quickly stood up but Ludwig was faster, quickly running after his son. The younger twin was about to follow him when Feliciano rested his hand on his arm.

"I think its best they talk alone for right now." The Italian whispered and Matthew hesitated before nodding. He supposed that would be best so he sat himself back down. Still, he wanted to hug his albino, he looked so hurt..

"Well, this has been quite the success." Arthur commented dryly. He didn't really know what else to say. Half their party was missing. There had been three different arguments that he didn't know the details of that had caused it. Basically, he had no idea what had gone wrong.

When Raivis ran off he had been surprised, then Alfred had been whisked away and he was about to yell for him to sit his ass back down when two other guests started to argue. He had no idea how to deal with such a situation. The only thing he did know was this was probably the worst dinner party he had ever hosted. And for once it wasn't Francis fault.

"Stop being so pessimistic Arthur." Francis scolded, taking another bite from his diner. "I just hope they come back. Some of us have to leave for mass soon..." He added, turning to look in the direction the missing members had run off to.

* * *

"Fuck Ivan! Dad's gonna be so pissed if we don't get back there this-hmmph!"

Ivan quickly silenced any more arguments from his boyfriend with his lips, thrusting his tongue into his mouth. He pressed Alfred against the wall harshly, making sure their bodies touched almost everywhere. He needed to feel that warmth again. He needed it.

Alfred pulled away, sending him a glare, "The hell! I said n-"

Again, Ivan solved the problem with a searing kiss. One hand ran up the others clothed chest and into his hair, pulling and running through the once neatly brushed locks. The other rested on the American's hip possessively.

Alfred pulled away, panting harshly. "Fuck Ivan, since when did you get so demanding? When it comes to romance you're always so timid."

Ivan noticed Alfred didn't seem to be too angry any more and he smirked. "Well, I find it unfair that my right to touch you was so suddenly taken away after having it at my leisure for nearly a week."

Alfred blushed at the comment as Ivan waited for his retort. Sadly, he couldn't think of anything, so instead he grabbed the others for another kiss. And this time he fought back.

Ivan grinned into the kiss, pushing him back further. The hand on his hip, clenched tighter until he got an idea. He remembered a picture he had seen in one of Alfred's French father's magazines. Never breaking away from the kiss, he moved the hand on the others hip to hook behind his thigh, pulling it up suddenly.

Alfred yelped in surprise as his foot lost contact with the ground and was wrapped around a Russian waist. Instinctively, his other leg followed and he found his arms slipping to wrap around the others neck for support.

"Fuck Ivan. You're never l-like this." He flushed, closing his eyes tightly as Ivan kissed him again.

"But you like it, da?" Ivan asked smugly between kisses.

Alfred blushed even further turning away, "Sh-Shut up."

"I have been quite hesitant, da? It is because I am unsure if you reciprocate my feeling. But now I see that perhaps you do. I should start being more...rough, yes?"

"I-" Alfred stammered.

"Da, your cute blushing face makes the decision for you." The Russian giggled, nuzzling into the others neck happily. What a wonderful turn of events!

Alfred was redder and more embarrassed than he ever felt being before. And suddenly he wondered why. Why was he acting like a total girl or whatever? He was the Hero! He couldn't just do nothing and take it! No he had to take charge!

The American pushed away at the Russian, disentangling his legs from his waist. Ivan, surprised, was forced to take a few steps back. He was about to ask why when two hands were placed on his shoulders, turning him around and forcing _him_ into the wall.

"Hey." Alfred hissed, his face so close to the taller that their lips were barely a sliver apart. It made Ivan try to move his head in order to capture those sinfully delicious lips, but Alfred kept him down. "I can be just as fuckin' rough. Ya hear me?"

Ivan blinked before smirking. Ooh, he liked this Alfred. "Is that so?"

"Oh, it's totally so." Alfred snapped back, his grin growing with each syllable he uttered.

"Ahem."

Alfred whirled around, looking like a deer caught in the head lights. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. _Shit_.

Oh, it was only Papa. At least it wasn't Dad, that would be so embarrassi-

No, wait a minute. This was totally a shit moment. _Papa_ had caught him making out which meant that he would start-

"I'm so sorry to interrupt, Alfred! But I have some advice for you two. Alfred, you should be using your hands more. Most of the time they were by your sides or clinging around his neck. Now Ivan, Alfred's neck was ripe for the picking and you did noth-

"PAPA! Stop talking! Go away!" Alfred shrieked, covering his face with his hands. He was going to crawl into a ditch and die. Yep. That's exactly what he was going to do.

"I am only trying to help." The Frenchman defended.

"You're not. So. Please. Just. Stop." Alfred begged, looking up with pleading eyes. Francis scoffed but dropped the subject anyway.

"What I came here originally for was to remind you that we're leaving for church in ten minutes. You might want to comb your hair again."

Alfred blushed, trying to tame the now messed up locks with his hands. "O-okay. I'll be ready d-don't worry." Francis smiled, giving him a wink before leaving the two lovebirds alone.

The American let out a breath of relief once his father left, leaning against the wall beside Ivan. "Hey, are you coming with us?" He asked curiously, tilting his head to the side to look at him.

"I have never been to Church." Ivan replied with a shrug.

"Its kinda boring but you have to go for Christmas and Easter at least. All you have to do is sit and listen." Alfred supplied with his own little shrug.

"Is everyone going?" Ivan asked, straightening up so that he could look at Alfred directly instead of from the side.

"Well, I don't think Toris and his brothers are. Feli, Mr. Bielshmidt and Gil are and so are Papa, Mattie and I." The blond counted off on his fingers.

"Your English father is not coming?" The taller teen inquired. Of course he wouldn't, he should have guessed it.

"He doesn't usually. He used to be catholic than he went protestant and then he just kinda stopped being anything. Around when I was little, when we were in the old neighborhood..." He trailed off, looking to the ground awkwardly.

"That is right. You must tell me about that. I wish to know what happened." It wasn't fair the other knew about the fate of his father and his time in the orphanage and he still had little knowledge of Alfred's own past. He would correct the issue immediately.

"I'll tell you. Don't worry! But not now..." He assured, tilting his head up to look into those violet pools, "So, are you coming or what?"

"Da, I will come. It means being with you for a longer period of time."

Alfred rolled his eyes, hoping it covered up his light blush. And his face had just regained its normal coloring too!

"But this time, no touching at all. Doing anything like that in Church is gross. And wrong. And probably will get you a one way ticket to Hell." Alfred warned seriously, wagging his finger for good measure.

Ivan pouted, "Fine." At least it was a legitimate reason instead of a pour excuse about his horrible father.

* * *

When Francis had excused himself to find Alfred to alert him of the time, Matthew had done the same to go find Gilbert. He was really worried about him. He remembered the other bringing up his mother a while ago, when they had had his family over the last time. He had pushed the issue out of his mind because of Alfred and his family's dilemma.

He hadn't really been paying much attention to Gilbert and now that he though about it he felt kind of like an ass. The more and more he reflected on the past week or so, the more he realized how selfish he had been.

Everyday Gilbert had called, asking to come over, or to go somewhere and every time he had brushed him off reminding him about his brother's issues. And each phone call had become more desperate. He had thought he was being whiny and selfish. Maybe he was wrong.

Maybe he desperately needed to talk to his boyfriend over something he had discovered that hurt him immensely. Maybe he had been trying to get his support.

And Matthew had refused him. God, he felt like shit.

So, he quickly scurried away, even if Feli had said to let them be. He looked for them downstairs, ignoring some not-very-appropriate noises from his brother down the hall, but could not find them. So, he ascended the stairs, his feet automatically heading for his own room. It turned out to be the correct room anyway.

The door was closed but he could still hear voices.

He opened it slowly, quietly and peered in unnoticed. Both Germans were sitting on the edge of his bed, with serious expressions on their faces. It looked so-so _wrong_ to see Gilbert with such a sad stern expression. Matthew hated it. He wanted that grin back, that obnoxious cackle. Instead, all he got was his albino staring at the floor with a solemn expression, his face held up by his hands supported by his elbows which were resting on his knees. As if he didn't have the strength or the will to hold his head up by himself anymore.

Ludwig was speaking to him, a pained stern expression on his face, looking at the wall as he spoke, his hands fidgeting slightly beside him. Whatever he was saying he was saying it quietly, something unnatural for the normally shouting German and it made it so that Matthew could not decipher his words. Ludwig at one point put his hand on the albino's shoulder in a comforting manner and the boy just looked all the sadder.

A hand touched Matthews own shoulder and he almost screamed. He turned around to see it was only the small normally bubbly Italian. Feliciano smiled at him sadly, motioning him to leave with him.

"I told you they would be OK." The red head whispered.

"You know what they're talking about." Matthew stated, glancing back at his bedroom door.

"Ludwig told me about it a long time ago." He responded, heading down the steps.

"Tell me." Matthew didn't mean it to sound disrespectful or anything, but he desperately wanted to know what exactly was the matter.

"Gillie has to tell you himself."

Matthew frowned at the denial but nodded anyway. He was right after all. But still...

"Now perk up, we're leaving for the House of God soon!" Feliciano smiled up at him.

Matthew tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

* * *

"We'll be leaving now. Thank you for dinner and I'm very sorry about Raivis." Toris apologized as he fidgeted at the door. His brothers were already in the car, waiting for him.

"Oh, do not worry. It was fine. Thank you for coming." Arthur assured with a smile, "And Ivan? Is he not going with you?"

"Erm, well he said he wished to go to church with you all.. And that Alfred had invited him. If he's too much trouble we can take him home."

"He is fine." Francis quickly responded, not trusting his husbands answer. A few more goodbyes later and the Laurinaitis had departed.

"Tonight was a disaster." Arthur finally bemoaned, rubbing his temples as he closed the front door.

"Oh, it was memorable. Not a disaster."Francis scoffed with a small smile.

"Francis, half of our guests left the table suddenly."

"Like I said before, memorable." Francis reasoned, stepping closer to wrap his arms around the other. "Now may I have a quick kiss before I leave?"

Arthur rolled his eyes but indulged him. All things considered, Francis was very well behaved tonight and he supposed he deserved a little bit of a treat.

"Alright, I must go round up the children so we can get a good seat, say hello to Sis-"

"I think I'll go."

"-ter Nancy and Sister Hele—What?" Francis stopped, staring at him. Had he just said what he though he'd said?

"What are you looking at frog? I said I wanted to go." Arthur coughed into his hand awkwardly.

"To church?" The Frenchman clarified in disbelief.

"Yes. To church, are you deaf?" He snapped.

"But why? I mean I'm happy and Feli will be thrilled but...Why?" The blond simply couldn't wrap his head around it. Arthur hadn't gone near a church in years.

Arthur flushed, "Because..." _Because we're finally a family again and I don't want to be left alone in the house while you three grow closer spiritually. _"Just because." He stated stubbornly.

"...Alright. Whatever you say. But no complaining when we are there." Arthur rolled his eyes.

"I'll be on my best behavior. Happy?"

"Very. This doesn't have anything to do with Ivan's presence, does it?" The Frenchman raised a perfect eyebrow suspiciously.

"Think what you want frog. The more I argue with you, the less inclined I am to go. So hurry it up before I change my mind."

* * *

WOOT! It feels so good to be back on schedule. :3  
I actually feel this chapter is kinda decent-ish. Mostly because of Ivan and Alfred's scene. lol. I'm sad at the lack of FrUKiness though... oh well.  
Anyways, next Chapter we go to church, meet some nuns from the past orphanage and Ivan interrogates Alfred. Fun times.

Anyways, thank you guys for all the reviews! Continue to Review! Review your little hearts out because it makes me so happy! Teehee.

See you Sunday!

EDIT: I fixed the Eduard/Estonia mix up that a few pointed out. My bad. Sorry about that!


	36. Chapter 35

"Come on boys! File in." Francis called, opening the front door for his children. First, though, the Beilschmidts left. "We shall see you at the church, oui?" Francis asked the tallest of the trio who nodded stiffly before exiting the house. Gilbert followed, staring at the ground with Feli's arm slung over his shoulder, holding him close. The Italian was whispering comforting words to his ear as they left.

It didn't seem to be working.

Matthew watched them go, biting his lip in worry. _He_ wanted to be the one holding Gilbert. _He_ wanted to be the one comforting him. Damn it. Alfred was suppose to be the oblivious one, the one who never thought of others feelings. But here he had done the exact same thing.

"Come on Matthieu!" Francis called already having seated himself in the passenger seat of Arthur's car, bringing him back to reality. Alfred and Ivan were also already sitting in the back, staring at him. He quickly scurried over to the vehicle before his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Am I driving, Papa?" He asked, peering at the empty drivers seat. Normally, Papa would always drive them to church...

"Non, just sit in the back. Your father will be here soon." The Frenchman said dismissively and Matthew nodded. He opened the door, sliding in next to his brother who was sitting in the middle.

It took the pair another few seconds to digest that fact.

"Dad's coming to church!" They both asked in disbelieved, leaning forward in their seats. Francis let out a chuckle, twisting around in his seat to face his precious boys.

"I was just as surprised." He told them, "But yes, he is coming."

"That's so weird..." Alfred breathed out, leaning back in his seat again. Dad never came to church.

"That is, I think he's coming. But if he does not get in the car soon we may leave him behind." The elder blond mused, peering at his watch. The Beilshmidts had already left, and if they didn't follow soon they wouldn't get a seat. Christmas Eve service was usually packed.

A few seconds later and Arthur stumbled out of the house, quickly hurrying over to the car and stepping in. "For a moment I thought you got cold feet." Francis teased, smirking at his husband as he buckled up.

"Oh, belt up Frog. I'm here, aren't I?" The other snapped back, backing out of the drive way before heading off. "The old church right?" Francis nodded, looking up at the rear view mirror to watch his sons. Matthew looked so terribly sad.

"Ah, mon pauvre petit. Comme tu suffres a cause de l'amour." _(Oh, my poor little boy. How you suffer because of love) _Francis sighed in an exaggerated manner. He watched as Matthew blushed from the comment, looking away into the window instead of addressing him. Ivan nudged at Alfred to ask him what he had said but Alfred only shrugged. If only the boy had taken French like his Papa wanted him to instead of Spanish.

"Leave him alone, Francis." Arthur scolded, the only other person to have understood the comment. "I hate when you speak that horrible language." He spat as an after thought.

"Oh? Then why did you start learning it when we were dating? And why did you continue even after we broke up? Hmm?" The Frenchman goaded with a smug little smirk. He had been so touched when he had found out that his boyfriend had been secretly learning the language of love. He had made love to him right there on the floor of the hall when he had told him. He just couldn't contain himself when the Brit stumbled over the words, his face a tomato red and eyes trained on the ground. Absolutely delicious.

The Englishman reddened slightly, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "Do you really want to bring that up?" He threatened and Francis pouted. No, he didn't want to bring up their nasty little breakup. It had just slipped out.

"But you've forgiven me haven't you? I went two whole months without!" The Frenchman insisted, feeling the old churning f guilt at the pits of his stomach as he recalled it.

"That isn't extraordinary! You know, before I met you I went without for much longer than that!" Arthur snapped, making a sharp turn.

"And what a horrid life it was without me in it." Francis murmured, hoping to lighten the mood. He certainly didn't want to dwell on his past mistakes.

Arthur snorted, taking a left at the intersection, "If you wish to believe that nonsense then so be it."

"Oh, how you wound me Arthur!" Francis sighed melodramatically, placing a hand on his heart for added effect.

In the back seat, Ivan nudged at his boyfriend, a look of confusion painted on his pale face, "I do not understand. What are your English and French fathers speaking of?"

Alfred sat up a little, flicking a bored gaze at his bickering parents, "They're talking about back when they were dating. At some point Papa cheated on Dad after some fight and they broke up for like two months. I try to block out there stories. There way too graphic."

"What do you mean too graphic?" His Papa asked indignantly, wheeling around to face his elder son, "I merely recount the tale in vivid detail, so that you may picture it yourself."

"I don't want to picture it, Papa! Nobody does but you." Alfred whined, pressing his hands to his face.

"So, you are saying you have forgotten the story of that horrid time when your father left me? Alone, by myself to never be pleasured again?" Francis continued, his tone getting higher as he spoke.

"You cheated on me, you wino!" Arthur snarled.

"Yes, and I am sorry about that. But it was honest mistake."

"Honest mistake? As if you thought it was me you were shagging? It was dark haired _woman_ for god sakes." He spat in distaste. No, he did not want that image to resurface in his mind again. It was over. It was more than ten years ago.

"Was it? I can't even recall which shows how much it actually mattered to me. What I meant was the fact that you had broken up with me that afternoon. I thought I had freedom." He defended himself.

"Back then we broke up every day. It didn't mean you could shag anyone!" Arthur reminded angrily.

"I didn't know the rules of monogamy all that well!" Francis crossed his arms. He hadn't had a stable relationship since high school, how was he suppose to recall every single detail. Plus, that fight had really seemed like the end and that broad was just a way to forget. Anyway, when he woke up to find Arthur screaming at him with tears in his eyes he'd felt worse than he'd ever felt in his life. Surely he'd paid for his mistakes by now?

"Don't remind me. It sickens me how much you slept around." Arthur grimaced.

"Oh, it is nothing to be sickened of. And that ended right after that lady. You know that." Francis reminded, and it was true. He had only ever shared his bed with his Englishman ever since that night.

"Yes yes, now shut the bloody hell up because we're here." Arthur pulled into the crowded parking lot, stopping the car and getting out quickly. His husband could be so infuriating.

"Thank the Lord." Alfred sighed, pushing his brother out of the car so he could get away from his parents. Really, they were horribly embarrassing.

"Now, we must find Ludwig and the others before Matthieu gets a heart attack." Francis commented, limping out of the car. Matthew reddened once more, his mouth pouting. He was worried and he had every right to be!

"They're probably already inside, it's freezing out here." Arthur complained, heading briskly for the entrance. Francis followed after him at a more leisurely place, taking the time to appreciate the Brit's ass. Yes, he had made the right choice.

"Ivan, you coming?" Alfred called, his boyfriend had yet to get out of the car. His father was right, it was fucking freezing out here and he'd much rather be inside. Why was the Russian being so slow, anyway?

The taller teen hesitated, stepping out of the car and looking over at the small building. "Am I allowed?" Alfred tilted his head in confusion. What kind of question was that? "I do not know if I am welcomed in a supposedly sacred place..." Blue eyes widened and quickly grabbed at his hand. He sent him a stern look, tugging him toward where the rest of his family had gone.

"You're always welcome. K? Now come one. I want to say hi to the sisters before Mass starts, I haven't seen them since like Easter."

Ivan nodded slowly, allowing himself to be dragged into the church.

* * *

"Good evening, Sister Helen." Francis greeted warmly. The elder woman smiled at him in return.

"Oh good evening, Francis. It's so good to see you! And where are the boys?" She asked politely, looking over his shoulder.

"Sister Helen!" Alfred called, running over to hug her. She chuckled lightly, patting his arm. She still remembered when they were the tiniest of things.

"Its nice to see you too Alfred. You grow an inch taller every time I see you. Now, have you been behaving?" She asked with a raised brow. Alfred looked up to the ceiling and she rolled her eyes. "I don't know how you handle them so well, Francis. They were always getting into so much trouble."

"Still do, I'm afraid." Arthur sighed, stepping forward. "Its been a while, Sister Helen."

"Why Arthur, I haven't seen you in ages." She smiled at him, "Are you coming back?"

"Afraid not."

"Ah, well I tried." She sighed before remembering she wasn't finished with all her greetings, "Ah, where is little Matthew?"

"Here." Matthew spoke up quietly, having been right there the entire time. She smiled at him, giving him a small hug.

"Are you alright dear?" He nodded, slightly confused at the question directed to him. Was it really that obvious how worried he was? "Well, mass will be starting any minute. I shouldn't keep you any longer." The party nodded stepping off towards the doors.

"Oh my! Francis whatever happened to your leg?" She asked worriedly, spotting the boot hidden beneath his pant leg and his slight limp. He'd been able to have the cast removed in favor of a boot but it was still terribly annoying to deal with.

"Oh, it is nothing. Do not worry about it." He called to her as he went into the room. It didn't stop her from doing a quick sign of the cross before following after them. The room was packed, and she didn't want to take up any room left in the pews so she settled for leaning against one of the back walls near the doors.

The Bonnefoy family (plus one) on the other hand, spotted an abnormal head of white and headed over to the pew. Feliciano waved at them, motioning them over to sit with them as they had saved them a few seats. Matthew hurried over, plopping down right beside Gilbert who looked slightly better. Only slightly.

"Gilbert, are you alright?" Matthew asked quietly, looking into those unique red eyes he adored so much.

"Of course I'm fine! I'm totally awesome." Gilbert assured with a wide grin. It looked so horribly fake. He hated it.

"Gilbert."

The grin quickly fell (thank God) and the albino turned away slightly, "I don't want to talk about it right now."

"Gil-"

"Please, Matt. I can't right now."

Matthew hesitated but finally nodded, sitting back beside him. He scooted in closer, so their bodies pressed together slightly. He slipped his hand into the others paler one, lacing their fingers together and giving the albino a comforting squeeze. All the while, he leaned his head onto his shoulder. Gilbert tilted his head as well, partially leaning it on the younger twin's golden locks.

Ivan sat beside Matthew, looking at the couple from the corner of his eye. They seemed so peaceful together, so relaxed and comfortable. He wanted that. He turned his head to look at Alfred, sitting next to him with a slightly bored look on his face. The Russian, moved his hand closer to the American only to have it nudged away.

"I said no touching." Alfred reminded with a halfhearted glare. Seriously, the other better behave or he was going to get a stern talking to.

"I was not going to touch you. I merely wished to hold your hand."

"Why?" Alfred asked, his eyebrow raised skeptically. After the Russian's earlier performance he was still unsure on what to expect from him. He seemed to be abandoning his timid facade for something bolder, rougher (hotter).

"Because I enjoy holding your hand." Ivan replied simply.

Ah, there was the blush he loved so very much. Alfred looked so much cuter when he wore it on his face. It made his brilliant blue eyes stand out all the more.

"Fine." Alfred muttered, grabbing the others hand and looking away a little. Ivan let out a quiet giggle at the behavior. Alfred could be so very adorable!

* * *

Mass was only ten minutes in and Arthur was already fidgeting in his seat. Francis kept sending him glances, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow at him in question.

"Arthur, if you wish to go. You can go." Francis sighed into his ear.

"I need to use the restroom. Is all." He quickly excused himself, ignoring his husband when he rolled his eyes and turned back to the ceremony. Arthur stepped out into the aisle, trying to make it to the exit without being noticed.

"Arthur?"

Blast all. He looked up, seeing the sister from earlier peering at him curiously. He smiled politely at her, moving toward her direction.

"Hello, Sister Helen." He greeted softly, hoping not to disturb the ceremony.

"It's been very nice seeing you." She stated and he nodded slightly awkwardly. "You know, you've done a wonderful job..." The blond man tilted his head in slight confusion at the sudden compliment.

"With the twins...They have grown into such amazing young men. It was very nice to keep in touch with them. The orphanage became so very quiet without them." She continued in a quiet whisper, so as not to disturb the others attending the mass.

Arthur let out a small smile, looking at his sons proudly. He flicked his emerald gaze back at the religious woman beside him, "Thank you...and thank you for giving us a chance." He decided to add.

She smiled, "I'm glad too." She fiddled with the cross around her neck slightly, looking over to the family. "You really do love him..." She sighed.

Arthur knew exactly who she was referring to, his green eyes looking at the familiar wavy blond hair fondly. "Unfortunately, I do."

She chuckled, straightening herself up, "Well, I have to go help collect money. It was nice speaking with you Arthur, I rarely get the chance."

"Yes yes, I should come to church more often." He teased lightly.

"I see I'm still going to have to pray for you." She replied back with a small smile, walking off. Arthur stayed back for a moment, his eyes returning to those wavy locks he adored so very much (though he would deny ever thinking such a thought later). His green gaze continued, resting on the slightly darker and much shorter hair of his dear Alfred. His dear little trouble making Alfred. And they continued on, past the tall teen until reaching wavier hair of the same shade and landing on Matthew. Sweet, quiet Matthew.

He loved those three more than the entire world.

His view of them was blocked as they sat back down and he decided to turn away and leave. He entered the main room, wondering what he would do now. It was past midnight and he needed to be here to drive his family home...

His eyes caught on another room, the door invitingly open. He took a few steps toward it, discovering that it was a tiny little chapel, empty. Curiously, he stepped inside. It was a pretty little room, he had to admit. He looked up to find Jesus staring at him and almost jumped out of his skins. Except it was only a carving of him on the cross.

"I don't believe in God." He said suddenly, looking into the figure. He wasn't particularly sure why he had just blurted out that fact, "At least, not anymore. But, I know my family does. So, if you are there, watch over them." He snorted to himself. "Why am I talking to myself? You know..." He slid down into one of the pews, looking around the tiny chapel to make sure nobody was actually around. He could still hear dimly the mass proceeding in the neighboring room.

"When I was young I used to talk to myself all the time. Well, not to myself, but to all my friends. Well, not friends per-say. I didn't have many real friends at all. But, my little creature friends, like my unicorn, my flying mint bunny. Oh and the faeries. Oh how miss all the faeries" He smiled down at his lap, "They don't visit me much anymore." He sighed sadly, "Well, I suppose I'm not very lonely anymore."

He glanced back up at the cross and chuckled, "What am I doing? I don't normally enjoy hearing myself speak. That's more in the line of what Francis or Alfred would do... Alfred, oh Alfred." His voiced lowered slightly into a murmur.

"I worry for him constantly." The Brit confessed, wringing his hands in his lap. "I just want what's best for him...But that only makes him hate me..." His voice was barely a whisper by then. He stared at the floor, at his shoes before abruptly standing up. What was he doing? He was acting foolish. He quickly left the room, resisting the urge of saying goodbye as he did so. There was no one to say goodbye to anyway. No one.

He'd just have to find some other way to pass the time until the mass ended.

* * *

"Gilbert, do you want to sleep over at Francis'?" Feliciano asked softly.

"Yeah... That would be awesome." He mumbled, before his eyes widened. "But it's Christmas morning!"

"Just come home early, we don't want you miserable." Ludwig sighed and Gilbert gave him a tired grin.

"It is fine with me." Francis agreed, squeezing the young boy's shoulder. My, he was as tall as him if not taller. They grow up so fast... He still remembered the little second grader who would track mud into his home, fight with Alfred and most importantly, constantly attempt to coax shy quiet Matthew out of his shell. "It seems like Ivan is sleeping over, anyway."

They found Arthur in the main room, waiting for them before they all ventured out toward their cars. Ludwig, with the bubbly Italian wrapped around his arms, waved at them. A slight flicker of concern appeared in his normally serious eyes as his gaze lingered on the albino. It was brief though as he quickly turned away. Snapping at Feliciano to not hang on him so much. His only response was a whine, a complaint that he was tired and cold.

Gilbert smiled as he watched them go, wrapping his arms slightly tighter around his boyfriends waist. He just wanted to snuggle up with his Matt and never have to worry about anything ever again. It would be totally awesome.

"All right, lets try to squeeze everyone in." Arthur sighed, stepping into the drivers seat. Somehow, they managed and before long they had arrived at the home. Thankfully it wasn't that long of a trip because neither Arthur nor Alfred liked the fact that the American was forced to sit on Ivan's lap.

"All right. Bed time, for the lot of you." The Brit reminded, shooing the four boys up the stairs once they had gotten home. He himself only wanted to fall into bed and sleep forever but he couldn't. There were still a few presents to wrap and everything had to be placed under the tree.

"Hmm." Francis hummed tiredly, wrapping his arms around his husband and holding him close. "Lets go to bed too, Arthur."

"We have to finish the gifts." Arthur reminded, trying to pull away.

Francis let out a slight whine, burying his face into the other neck. Oh how he loved the way his Englishman shivered when he did that. Such a sensitive area, his neck was. He pressed a soft kiss to the smooth skin, delighting in the small tremor the others body made.

"I am very sorry. I hope you know that." he whispered softly, genuinly. He was still a bit hurt over the previous argument. Arthur softened, pressing a quick kiss to the others lips.

"Yes, yes I know." He assured, as the elder smiled at him and gave him a kiss as well. Except this one was much more passionate. "Francis stop it. Gifts now." Arthur hissed, breaking away from the kiss that left him breathless.

"Oui, Je sais." He sighed, stepping away. "And I know, no sex."

"The only night of the year where you actually say that and mean it." Arthur teased dryly, moving toward the hallway closet to grab some wrapping paper. Francis rolled his eyes, tip toeing up the stairs to retrieve the presents, hidden away in their walk in closet. It was the only area the twins never dared to venture in.

* * *

Gilbert flopped down on the bed, exhausted. Gott, he needed some sleep and he needed it now. He buried his face in one of the pillows, inhaling the wonderful aroma of maple that was Matthew. Why did the other always same so good?

"Gil?" Matthew nudged as he climbed onto the bed as well. He remained seated, with his legs crossed as he looked down at his boyfriend. "Will you tell me now?"

The albino stiffened slightly, moving the pillow to hold it against his chest, "There's nothing to tell." He denied.

"Gil."

The self proclaimed Prussian turned over so he faced the other direction. "I'm tired Matt. Not now."

"You know...my mother didn't want me either." Matthew tried to coax the other softly. He used his hand to thread through the others choppy white locks in a hopefully soothing manner.

"Being put up for adoption isn't the same as almost aborting me." The albino hissed out defensively.

"Well, at least your father wanted you. Mine didn't, he just left." Matthew continued.

"Yeah, and then you got adopted by awesome people and lived happily ever after. You didn't have to deal with not seeing your father at all for weeks at a time because he was dealing with a fucking divorce that left him depressed and angry all the time. You didn't have to feel like your babysitter was more of your family then your own dad!" Hell, for the first few years Feli seemed like more of parent than his own Dad, and that was before they were even dating.

"Gil. Not everything was so peachy for me either!" Matthew snapped, his hand pulling away.

"Oh yeah? How!" The German wheeled around to face the taller teen.

Matthew fell silent, wrapping an arm around his legs to draw them closer to himself. "I... When Papa and Dad took us to our first school, I was bullied a lot."

"What for? Because you were quiet?" He asked a little self consciously, his voice dropping its anger. Who dared bully his Matt?

"No... See it was the neighborhood's public school. And well, the neighborhood didn't like us." The blond confessed, looking down at his sheets.

"Why? You're the awesomest person I know." Matthew let out a little snort at that.

"They didn't like that Papa and Dad are gay. And they especially didn't like that they now had kids." He explained with a shrug. He didn't really want to talk about it...

"What the fuck? That's no reason to bully some kid." Gilbert growled, protectively. When he and Matt had babies he would totally kick whoever's ass if they tried to bully them. Especially if it was over something that fucking stupid.

"Yeah, well it was reason enough."

* * *

"Alfred." Ivan prodded, nudging at the half asleep boy's shoulder. "Alfred."

"What?" The blond whined, trying to pull the covers up and over his head. He had collapsed into his bed, thoroughly tired out from the days events.

"You were going to tell me of your old neighborhood." Ivan reminded with a slight pout. He had behaved at church and then when they had returned. He earned it.

"Not now. It's late, I'm tired. I'll tell you tomorrow." Alfred mumbled, burying his head into his pillow. Hopefully, the Russian would get a clue and go to sleep.

"You keep saying such things and it never happens. Tell me." Ivan continued stubbornly.

"Ugh, fuck, fine." He snapped, sitting up quickly. He grabbed his glasses that he had put on the night stand and glared at his boyfriend. "I'll tell you the fucking story. It's no where near as bad as yours so don't get your hopes up. I mean its still bad though."

"Da, just tell me." Ivan nodded, getting himself comfortable beside the American.

"Alright, I'll start from the beginning. Papa and Dad had finally adopted us after a couple of months of being screened and interrogated by some nuns. _But, finally, they got us and we moved into their little townhouse."_

* * *

"Woah! We get this whole room? Its huge!" Alfred shouted excitedly, running into the once guest bedroom now renovated into their bedroom. It sported two twin beds, walls painted a pale blue and had a trunk for toys to be held in. Matthew quickly ran in after his brother, a big smile on his face.

"I'm glad you like it. What would you like for lunch?" Arthur asked softly as the two boys turned their attention to him.

"We get to choose!" Alfred exclaimed, eyes shining bright as he ran toward the taller blond. He grabbed his hand, tugging at it impatiently. "PB&J. Pwease?" He asked, his speech slipping slightly in his excitement. Arthur laughed lightly and nodded.

"Whatever you want." The man assured.

"Come on Mattie! Lets go!" Alfred urged on and the younger quickly obeyed, scurrying over to his brother.

"Matthew, do you want anything different?" Arthur asked, hopefully. The boy simply shook his head. Arthur nodded and inwardly sighed. He had yet to hear the boy speak and it worried him. The nuns had assured him he was just shy. Still, he had visited the twins constantly over the past few months and yet had heard not a single word. Apparently, he talked to Alfred though.

At the table, the twins ate their snacks which thankfully didn't require any toasting or else they would have been burnt by Arthur's touch. Well, Alfred was making more of a mess than actually eating it and Matthew took it upon himself to constantly wipe at his brother's face with a napkin.

"Oh, Matthew you don't have to do that. I will." Arthur shooed the hand away, taking another napkin to wipe at the child's face. Alfred seemed unfazed as he continued blabbering on about whatever.

"So, we should call you Dad, now right?" Alfred asked suddenly. Arthur felt his face heat up slightly as he fidgeted a little.

"Well, err I suppose so. But it isn't necessary, i-if you do not wish to..." Dad? He'd always wanted to be a dad...

The young blue eyed boy tilted his head sightly, "Huh? But your our Dad now right?"

"I...Yes, I suppose..." He must be right? It felt so surreal.

"Okay! And what about Other Dad? Do we call him Other Dad?" Alfred continued, growing more excited as he practically bounced in his seat.

Arthur laughed ruffling those blond locks and enjoying how the child's smile grew. "Oh, I don't think he'd like that. Call him Papa. He'd like that."

* * *

"I do not see what is so traumatizing about this. In fact, it seems ideal." Ivan interrupted with a bored expression on his face. Alfred shot him a glare. Their positions had changed because Alfred complained that he was uncomfortable and tired. So, Ivan pushed him down until he was laying down, his head resting in his lap and looking up at him. Alfred had blushed but decided not to move.

"Shut up. This isn't the bad part. This is the good part. I was setting up a comparison! Geez! No more interruptions alright!" The American sputtered, crossing his arms.

"Fine." Ivan agreed, returning to petting the soft blond hair. He wondered if sunflower petals were as soft as Alfred's hair. He doubted it.

_The story really begins a week before school started._

* * *

I am such a tease. Next chapter we _finally_ find out more about Alfie and Mattie's old school.  
Lots of FrUK and PruCan in this chapter...  
I still have no idea how to work that thing but I'm figuring it out so bear with me.  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you make my heart sing with your love.

And I'm greedy for more. lol. I will see you next Sunday!


	37. Chapter 36

"Perfect!" Alfred cried out excitedly, his eyes shining brightly as he picked up the frog. Matthew grimaced at the slimy creature in his brother's hands, taking a step back.

"Alfie..." Matthew began, unsure as to whether this new game would actually be as much fun as Alfred had boasted it would. He glanced back at the door to their little townhouse, wringing out his six year old hands nervously.

"Shh, open the door Mattie!" His elder brother urged on, struggling with the frog squirming in his hands. Matthew hesitated another moment before opening the back door to the town house and scurrying inside. Alfred followed quickly, grinning from ear to ear at the prospect of his new game.

The two shuffled inside, tracking mud into the small home. They were about to play their newly invented game when Arthur almost shrieked.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" He cried, staring at the frog and at the children. Two pairs of eyes widened in fright and Arthur could already see tears forming in Matthew's violet blue orbs. "I mea-I mean what are you doing with a frog?" He asked at a softer pitch. He couldn't stand it when the two cried.

Matthew rubbed at his eyes and Alfred hung his head down. "We we're gonna play Moses and the plagues and I thought we could have a frog..." He mumbled.

"Alfred, you mustn't bring a frog into the house. Now, put that back outside alright?" Arthur scolded softly.

Alfred pouted and let out a dramatic sigh, "Fine." He dropped the frog outside, and closed the door. "Then.. Will you play with us?"

Arthur should have been finishing that suit for an important client. He also should go shopping for some last minute school supplies. In fact, he had countless things to do that Saturday morning in late August. But at that very moment when those pair of blue eyes looked up at him so hopefully he couldn't say anything other than,

"Alright."

"Yay!" Alfred bounced up clapping his hands together in glee."Ok. Then you can be the evil egyp-egypticans."

"Egyptians." Arthur corrected, a small smile appearing on his face, "And what should I do?"

"You gotta be angry. See, I'm Moses the hero and I'm gonna free my people and Mattie is Aaron, my sidekick." Alfred explained easily.

"Oh, I see."

"Ooh! I know! Papa! Papa can be the frog!" Alfred suddenly said when he heard footsteps upstairs. Arthur smiled, letting out a light laugh and ruffling the little boys hair.

"I quite like the idea, Alfred." He agreed.  
Alfred felt his grin increase in size as he quickly ran off to the living room. Or tried to. Arthur, though, held him back.

"First. Take your shoes off, they're filthy." He said sternly. Alfred let out a whine but did as he was told, flinging his shoes off and scurrying into the living room. Matthew quickly followed after him, silent as ever. He had talked to them since they adopted them in early June, but it was few words and at rare times. Arthur entered the room after the two boys at a much more leisurely pace as Francis was dragged from the stairs to the center of the room.

"So what is going on?" The Frenchman asked, tilting his head at how the little boy gripping his hand jumped around excitedly.

"We're gonna play a game! And you're in it!" Alfred shouted, brimming with enthusiasm.

"Oh, how exciting!" Francis agreed, smiling down at him.

"Ok, I'm a start now." Alfred said moving to stand in front of the Englishman. "I, Moses tell you to let my people go!" He yelled dramatically. Arthur had to contain a chuckle and put on his most serious face.

"No." He responded firmly.

"Are you sure?" Alfred asked, just to be sure.

"Quite." Arthur replied, crossing his arms for good measure.

"Fine. Frogs! I choose you!" The little boy cried, his finger pointing toward the Brit and his lips turned upward in a triumphant smirk.

Arthur waited with a raised brow as nothing happened. Alfred pouted and glared at his French adopted father. Francis blinked as he received the glare.

"Papa! You're suppose to attack!" Alfred whined.

"I am?" The longer haired blond asked, tilting his head.

"Yes! You're the plague of frogs." Alfred said matter of factly, as if it was a well known fact.

"Oh." Francis held in a chuckle, "Right, well, now I know."

"K. Frogs I choose you! Attack!" The boy repeated, just as loud.

"Right!" Francis stepped forward toward his husband who looked at him skeptically. And then, suddenly, he pounced. With a devilish smirk, he began to tickle the blond, dragging him down to the ground. The other man let out a surprised squawk before erupting into a fit of light laughs as he tried to fight off the overpowering Frenchman. Oh, Francis liked this game very much.

Then, his blue eyes eyed Alfred, standing there smugly. He backed away slightly, letting Arthur get his breath back. "Oh...But it seems to me the frogs are having a change of heart..." He murmured, watching as Alfred's face morphed into a confused expression.

And then he attacked, tickling the little boy fiercely as he cried out. "St-Stop!" Alfred pleaded, laughing hysterically at the Frenchman's hands. But Francis wasn't done there. He spotted the other boy, standing there smiling at them shyly in his own little corner.

His hand shot out, grabbing the others ankles and pulling him toward them. Matthew let out a surprised squeak before he became a victim to a barrage of tickles. The twins laughed under the merciless attack and Francis couldn't help but laugh along with them.

That is, until the doorbell rang. Francis stopped his tickling, the twins quieted down and Arthur got up to answer the door. He stepped out and closed the door behind him quickly. Francis took a step back, rising from the ground to watch the door better.

"Papa?" Alfred questioned, sitting up with another, more concerned, confused expression.

"Shh." Francis quieted, moving closer to the door in order to hear what was going on. Soon they could hear yelling. Francis stepped outside too and the yelling increased. The twins sat there, looking at each other worriedly.

Finally, after a very loud angry shout the door slammed open and the couple stomped inside. Arthur ripped up a piece of paper harshly, dumping it into a trash bin before storming up the stairs. Francis let out a tired sigh and moved to follow his husband when a voice stopped him.

"What's going on, Papa?" Alfred asked, looking scared.

Francis softened, stepping away from the stairs to move closer to the boys. "Nothing you need to worry about, mes enfants." He assured, smiling down at them. Alfred pouted slightly.

"And the game?" He questioned.

"We will finish it later. I must go check on Daddy, I'll be right back." And he quickly hurried up the stairs.

The twins shared a look before Alfred quickly scurried over to the bin. He stuck his hand in and fished out the pieces of papers with little difficulty.

"Alfie... That's private..." Matthew mumbled as his brother sat down on the floor, laying out the pieces of paper in front of him.

"I wanna know what happened so I can fix it. I'm the hero." He defended stubbornly, turning fragments of the page about in hopes of piecing it back together. Matthew sighed but, nevertheless, came over to help his twin brother.

Four little hands worked at the page until it seemed to make sense.

"P-Petishon to ev-evict the Bonnefoy family." Matthew read with some difficulty at the top of the page.

"Whats petishon? And ev-evict?" Alfred asked, puzzled.

Matthew shrugged, scanning down the sheet of paper. "These look like names." He pointed out, pressing his finger towards the lists of names.

"Yeah... Its weird..." Alfred couldn't make sense of the page and quickly gathered it up to stuff it back in its bin when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

* * *

At first, school had been fine. Alfred made some friends, and both twins were doing well grade wise. And then, things went down hill on a half day near the end of September.

The buses weren't running so parents had to pick up their kids. Alfred and Matthew were waiting outside with the other kids in their grade. Few people were actually leaving yet as parents took the opportunity to meet their child's new classmates and their parents, making small talk, setting up play dates and embarrassing their children. Alfred was talking to one of his classmates and his father about some new game he was hoping to get when a familiar car drove up.

Arthur stepped out of the car nervously after parking it (the round about was clogged with vehicles so he had to go into the parking lot a little ways away), scanning the crowd for his twin boys before finally spotting them. "Alfred! Matthew!" He called, but wasn't heard. He sighed, realizing he'd actually have to maneuver through the crowd to get to his boys.

He felt foolish. He shouldn't be so self conscious. He shouldn't have to live like this. With that in mind he straightened himself up, pushing his way through the crowd (politely of course) until he reached his adopted sons.

"Alfred, Matthew time to go." He stated, the boys turning to him quickly when they heard his voice.

"Dad! Dad this is my friend Mikey and his dad Mr. Douglas." Alfred introduced excitedly, tugging on the Brit's arm. The arm that had suddenly stiffened. Green eyes widened as they fell upon the slightly taller man in front of him who looked equally shocked.

"What are you doing here?" The other man gasped, his hands jerking his son closer to him protectively.

"Picking up my sons." Arthur snapped, hands tightening around Alfred's and Matthew's smaller ones.

"You can't have kids." Mr. Douglas spat.

"I can adopt." Arthur snarled back.

"What are you doing to them, you sicko?"

"I'm raising them. Don't make a scene." Arthur hissed, though, he could already feel everyone's eyes on them, mostly him.

"I don't want you or your faggot children anywhere near my son." Mr. Douglas said angrily, assuring that the attention of the other parents was drawn and kept.

"Don't you dare call them that!" Arthur shouted back.

"Why can't you just move? Its bad enough your in the neighborhood, now your infecting our school?" The man continued, "Is this some ploy just to get closer to little boys, you perverted faggot!"  
"I would never do such a thing! I'm not arguing this. My sons have every right to go to this school! Come on Alfred, Matthew. We're leaving." The Englishman hurried them through the crowd back into the car, trying to ignore the angry glares and the whispers. Those fucking whispers.

Matthew and Alfred looked at each other with worry filled frightened eyes as they were pushed into the car and buckled in. Arthur quickly got in himself, shoving the key into the ignition and speeding out. He knew this would happen. He knew it. Damn it. If only they had the money...Then they would leave this hell hole. It was no place to raise the twins that was for sure, he needed to get them out of here as soon as possible.

But for now, he had no choice.

"Dad?" Alfred spoke up, interrupting the elder man's thoughts.

"What, Alfred?" Arthur asked tiredly, flicking his gaze toward the mirror to see the boy fidgeting with his shirt.

"What does 'faggot' mean?"

Arthur stiffened, turning around to level the blond twin a stern look. "Don't you ever, ever, say that word again. Do you hear me? Its a horrible word and I won't stand for you using it."

* * *

"What does that word mean?" Ivan asked, tilting his head slightly and pausing in petting the soft blond locks. Alfred had stopped talking, his eyes drooping tiredly and mouth set in a frown. In fact, he hadn't smiled since he begun his tale.

After a moment, Alfred answered, "It's like a demeaning word for a gay person." Ivan nodded, locking the definition into his memory. If he recalled correctly, the nurse in the hospital those weeks ago had called him something similar...

"Can we go to bed now?" Alfred asked not really enjoying reliving his early childhood. Especially when he was so exhausted.

"Nyet, I want to know more."

"Whats there to know? We were fuckin' bullied for seven or so months until we finally moved away."

"What do you mean by bullied? I have never been before...What is it like?"

"It feels like shit Ivan. And if its physical than it hurts like shit too." Alfred snapped, his hands balling into fists. Ivan resumed petting at his hair, smoothing down the golden strands until Alfred relaxed. The American let out a yawn, "Fine, I'll continue the fuckin' story. Alright, well, one of the worst bullying cases I remember was when those little shitheads wrote on Mattie."

* * *

After the half day incident, school was much more difficult for the twins. Word spread fast and soon Alfred and Matthew became the children of the fag couple. They lost their friends quite quickly, it was amazing how easily they left there sides once their parents spoke to them. And those few students who didn't have parents like that were too scared to still talk to them.

Rumors began to spread.

_I heard if one touches you, then you become a fag like them._

_ My Dad told me that if you speak to them they'll trick you into going into their house._

Soon after, the bullying started.

"Leave him alone!" Alfred yelled, trying to retrieve his brother from the crowd of boys. Matthew was already crying, covering his ears from the torrent of name calling rather than actually shield himself. To him, the words hurt more than anything.

Alfred pushed them off hoisting Matthew up from the ground where he had been held down, keeping himself in front of his little brother protectively. They always picked on Matthew, always.

Arthur had told them to ignore the bullies until they went away. He promised them they would lose interest soon enough. He was wrong. When they ignored them, the teasing became violent. And they targeted Matthew because they perceived him as the weaker one, and they knew if they attacked him Alfred would defend him without question.

Arthur had assumed that if there was ever a real fight a teacher would break it up. He was wrong, again. The teacher's didn't care if some of the boys picked on either of the twins. Frankly, after finding out who they were, they wanted them out of their classrooms. Whenever either twin threw a punch of their own though, they were immediately reprimanded.

Alfred hated it.

"Dad, I don't want to go! You can't make us go! Please!" He would beg, and beg, and beg. But all Arthur could do was hug him close and whisper apologies. They didn't have the money to send them to a private school. They didn't have the money to move. And no one would buy the house in its current condition.

The only thing that ever made it better was getting home. Home was safe. Home was where Daddy and Papa hugged them tightly, thanked them for being brave and promised them a better future. Alfred only wished he could stay at home forever and never have to go to school ever again.

Still, they had to. And it only got worse, and worse.

"Mattie! Give him back! Mattie!" Alfred yelled, as he was held back by one of the stronger boys. Mattie was thrashing in the hold another boy had him in and Alfred couldn't tell what they were doing from where he stood. All he knew was that his brother was begging them to stop.

"We're just warning other to stay away." The boy holding him sneered and Alfred tried to elbow him in the ribs. "Dad says we have to protect the people who don't know you guys are fags." He continued on, undeterred.

"Leave us alone!" Alfred yelled, finally ripping free, as the bus they were on lurched to a stop. His stop. Alfred lunged for his brother, grabbing his hand and dragging him off as quickly as possible. They had released him so it wasn't too difficult. Matthew hurried behind him, his other hand covering his forehead as he cried freely.

Once they were off the bus, Alfred realized he'd forgotten their school bags but the bus was already closing its doors to move.

"Forgot these!" The bullies shouted from an open window, dumping their school bags out before flinging them themselves out onto the curb. Alfred let go of his brother, scurrying to retrieve their stuff as best as he could. It was muddy though but he didn't care. He just stuffed the papers and notebooks in the two bags and ran back. He nudged Matthew who quickly followed him inside of the empty house.

Arthur didn't come home usually until 20 minutes after they got home. Francis came around a little later.

"Mattie. Mattie, what did they do?" Alfred asked, dumping their bags and looking at his brother with large worried eyes.

Matthew hiccuped, shaking his head. "I-I don't know!" He cried, rubbing at his runny noise. "Th-they wrote on me. Wh-what does it say?" He asked desperately, uncovering his forehead.

Alfred bit his lip, in shaky yet determined scrawl was written FAG on the little boy's forehead. "They wrote the bad word." Matthew let out a whimper, covering it with his hand.

"Don't worry, Mattie! I'll wash it off!" Alfred quickly assured, taking his hand and running to the bathroom. He grabbed their step up ladder from under the counter and motioned for Mattie to stand on it. He himself simply climbed onto the counter ignoring his brother's "We're not suppose to do that."

Matthew held his hair back tightly as Alfred turned on the faucet. After soaking the poor boys forehead Alfred took the hand soap and scrubbed at the skin as best he could. After each rinse, the sharpie marker proved resilient, only lightening in shade. Alfred scrubbed harder, only succeeding in making his brother's forehead bright red.

"It'll never come off!" Matthew sobbed, seeing himself being ridiculed for the rest of his life because of the stupid marking. Alfred himself was close to tears because he hated it when his brother cried, especially when he couldn't fix the problem. And he'd tried so hard.

"Alfred, Matthew? I'm home!" Came a voice from down the hall.

"Dad! Dad'll fix it! He can fix anything!" Alfred cried out, grabbing his brothers arm and dragging him back toward the front door. Arthur was putting down his bag, turning his head at the now familiar patter of tiny feet on the floor.

"What happened?" He immediately asked worriedly as he saw the state of the two boys, one crying and the other close to doing so himself.

"The mean kids wrote the bad word on Mattie!" Alfred explained, pushing his brother in front of him to show. Arthur's eyes widened as he saw the red forehead with the gray but distinct lettering. He quickly picked Matthew up, holding him tight.

"Shh, don't worry. It will come off. I know just what to use." He assured softly, smoothing down the wavy hair. He ascended the stairs, Alfred at his heels who recounted the entire story of what had happened on the bus.

Once they'd reached the master bathroom, Arthur set Matthew down on the counter so he could sit. The boy wiped at his red, irritated eyes, looking absolutely miserable. The elder man leaned over, opening the cabinet to take out his and Francis shaving cream.

"Close your eyes." Matthew obeyed as Arthur squeezed some of the cream onto his hand to rub at his defiled skin. "I'm going to wash it off now, keep them closed." He eased the boy down to better wash off the cream before drying it off with a towel carefully.

Matthew blinked his eyes opened and looked into the mirror. There was still faint gray on his forehead but it was illegible. "The rest will wash off come bath time." Matthew smiled brightly, turning back around to give his adoptive father a grateful hug, burying his wet face into his chest.

"I'm sorry." Arthur whispered in return, placing Matthew back on the ground beside his twin.

"Dad, please don't make us go back! Please!" Alfred begged, looking up at the blond with big sad blue eyes. Arthur hated seeing them so miserable.

"I'm sorry." He could only say again. And it hurt him to say that.

Alfred glared at the ground.

"...Wh-Why?" Matthew squeaked out, grasping Arthur's attention in a second. Had the boy actually spoken to him? It was so very rare... "Why do we have to go!" It was so quiet, but held the same force as one of Alfred's tantrums.

Arthur bent down, "We don't have enough money to move, Matthew. We're saving though. We'll leave, I promise we will. But we can't just yet."

Matthew bit his lip and looked down at the floor.

"But, you two don't have to go to school, tomorrow. Ok? I'll stay home and we'll do whatever you want. We'll watch movies, have ice cream. Anything." Arthur quickly stated, the guilt hurting him too much. Sure, he should go to work so they could make more money so they could get out but this was more important.

If he could make those two little twin boys smile for just one day he'd sacrifice all he had.

* * *

"And?" Ivan pressed, looking down at the boy in his lap. Alfred had been pausing more and more as he told his story. And now he had stopped entirely.

Ivan wanted to know. He'd never been bullied, everyone was much too afraid of him. He was consumed by the tale, holding the shorter teen closer to himself protectively as he spoke. If he could, he would walk to that neighborhood and burn it to the ground. Pound the neighbors into the cement with his pipe and make their children scream.

Those who hurt his Alfred and made him suffer should pay. Would pay if he could perhaps procure an address.

"Alfred?" He hissed, prodding at the teen softly finding that he had succumb to sleep. His violet eyes flicked at the digital clock on the night stand, 2:38 am. It was late. He pouted, he'd have to interrogate him again later for the rest but, he supposed, for now he would be fine with sleeping. Especially beside the blond.

Carefully, he rearranged the other so that his head rested against a pillow instead of his lap before lying down beside him. He pulled the covers over themselves, turning on his side to face the sleeping teen. Alfred squirmed closer unconsciously, trying to find comfort in the others warm body.

"Спокойной ночи." _(Good night)_ Ivan whispered softly, kissing his forehead before wrapping an arm around him to bring him closer. "Точно так же, как Вы сказали, что Вы поможете мне с моими кошмарами, я помогу Вам в вашем собственном. Сон хорошо, дорогой." (_Just like you said you would help me with my nightmares, I will aid you in your own. Sleep well, dear._)

* * *

I heard somewhere that shaving cream gets rid of sharpie really easily. Anyway, voila, new chapter. Ugg I hate it. This chapter... I'm just not happy with it. I don't what it is but I find it repulsive...

It's also short...orz

Sigh... Anyways, I hope you guys at least enjoy it.  
Next chapter: Christmas family time~

Review, Review my charming little lovelies.


	38. Chapter 37

Ivan sat up with a sharp intake of breath, the covers pooling down around him. He threaded his large fingers through his pale blond hair, trying to calm himself down. The nightmares were always still there, but they had lessened in degree some what. He was certain they would torment him for the rest of his life. Usually, though, after he awoke from one Alfred would try to soothe him back to sleep.

Violet eyes blinked over to where the American still lay, asleep. He must have really been exhausted not to have woken up yet. Especially since he must have been tossing and turning in his nightmare...The teen looked so peaceful, his blond hair splayed out on the pillow, his eyes closed serenely and his mouth partially open to allow breaths to flow through his lungs.

Ivan wanted to kiss him, but, he refrained.

He didn't want to disturb his peace.

So, instead, the Russian merely watched as his boyfriend slept on. He didn't feel like going back to sleep and he would have to leave soon anyway. Today was a family event and he wasn't suppose to intrude. He didn't really belong here.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there watching the teen sleep. All he knew was he did so until a soft knock came at the door. Matthew's blond head peeked in, "I'm taking Gil home. Do you want a ride?" He asked quietly, mindful of his brother's sleeping form. He wondered why Ivan was up and just watching his twin but decided not to ask.

"Da." Ivan answered, standing up silently from the bed. Matthew left, closing the door behind him as Ivan fished for his clothing and his scarf. He had slept with his pants on so he only needed to locate his shirt...

After dressing himself, he turned to look back at the sleeping American. The Russian couldn't help but giggle quietly when he saw that Alfred had squirmed to the spot he had been residing in, even if it lacked covers. How cute. Ivan quickly picked up the sheets, covering the American up so he would stop his slight shivers. With that, he left the room.

Downstairs the couple was waiting for him in the mostly silent hall. Ivan quickly retrieved his coat, slipping it on easily before his eyes widened as he felt a bulge in one of its pockets. He had forgotten. How could he have forgotten?

"I forgot something. One moment." Ivan quickly muttered, hurrying back up the stairs. He ignored Gilbert's complaints about the time and whatnot, more focused on the task at hand. In fact, Ivan paid them no attention as he entered the bedroom once more. Alfred had barely moved, other than burying his head into the pillow the Russian had used. He could be so very adorable.

He pulled the gift out of his pocket, fiddling with it in his hands before setting it down on the nightstand. He stared at it a moment, then picked up a pen lying carelessly on the table hesitantly. He bent down, writing as clearly as he could, "I forget to give this yesturday. I hope you like it." on the outside of the envelope. He was always self conscious when he wrote in English, he could never spell anything correctly.

After that, he exited the room silently and stepped down the stairs. Gilbert grumbled a hurry up before he reached them. He ignored the comment (he mostly ignore the albino entirely anyway) and the three of them climbed into one of the Bonnefoy cars.

Gilbert's home was closer so he was dropped off first with few complaints or troubles. Though, the couple shared a long kiss that Ivan found annoying and Matthew found embarrassing. Still, the albino finally left them and Ivan decided to take his seat in the front. It was more comfortable to stretch his legs out there then it was in the back. It wasn't his fault he was of an admirable height.

He didn't live very far from the German family and as they neared his home Matthew flicked his violet blue gaze to him. "Ivan?" He asked quietly and with little self confidence. Ivan had always scared him, if only a little.

"Da?" The Russian answered noncommittally, looking outside at the snowy world. He couldn't wait until it all melted away. He hated the snow. He hated the cold. He wanted it all to just go away. To just leave him alone.

"I don't mind you dating Al." The shorter teen began awkwardly, flexing his grip on the wheel of the car as he drove, "I mean, he seems to really like you but.." He wavered slightly, making a turn.

"But?" Ivan questioned curiously, looking over at the timid teen.

"But..If you hurt him then...well I'm just as strong as my brother can be." Matthew hurriedly stated, not wanting to sound particularly rude but still hoping he got the message across. He could be protective too!

"Are you threatening me, Matvey?" Ivan asked, amused with a childishly creepy smirk growing on his face. It was so amusing, to think the other believed he could threaten him.

The twin reddened slightly which didn't help at all. "N-no. I'm just warning you. I don't want him hurt. And, he'll listen to me more than he'll listen to you." Matthew quickly added, hoping it would give more weight to his argument.

"Is that so? He seems to trust me very much now." Ivan continued, smirking slyly as he returned his gaze to the outside world. He was fairly comfortable that Alfred would not leave him at the drop of a hat. The fact that he had remained with him even with the knowledge of his past had cemented the idea that Alfred would not leave him suddenly.

"I'm his twin, of course he trusts me more." Matthew responded easily. Because it was true. They had a strong bond, one that no other person could match.

"He did not turn to you for help last week did he? Haven't you been lying to him as well? I'm sure since then you two have drifted apart." Ivan shrugged, smirking as he prodded the sensitive subject. Oh this was very amusing indeed.

Matthew tensed, "What's that suppose to mean?"

"It is only natural." Ivan continued, undeterred, "Soon we will be done with school and you will move out. Alfred will have his own life and so will you. Yet, if my relationship continues then Alfred and my life will remain intertwined while you move further and further away."

Matthew stared at him, "Are you trying to force Al away?"

"Nyet, I am just stating a fact of life." Ivan sighed, "Families break apart as time goes on. Parents die and siblings leave each other." It was true, he knew from experience.

Matthew didn't know what to say, only thankful that he had reached the Russian's home so he could get him out of his car. That wasn't true. Alfred and him had always been close. They wouldn't just drift apart. They wouldn't leave each other. They we're going to stay close forever. And Papa and Dad weren't old, they wouldn't just die. Well, everyone died eventually but they were still young. Right?

Right?

Oh God what if Papa and Dad died and Alfred left so that he was all alone?

Matthew found himself speeding back home.

* * *

Alfred woke up with a yawn, glancing at the clock tiredly. 9:02 am. He could still catch a few snoozes. It wasn't like he had any plans for the day. Christmas was the day that everyone staid home to spend time together so he wasn't even allow-

It was Christmas.

And he was still in bed.

He tore the blankets off of himself and stood up quickly, only then realizing his boyfriend was missing. He was sleeping next to him before, right? Oh, he must have left already. Alfred made a little twirl to confirm the fact only to spot a wrapped up box on his bedside table. He paused, slightly confused at its sudden appearance.

He picked up the gift, detaching the envelope and reading the message on the outside. It was from Ivan. (He really did need to work on his writing) The American opened the card, "_I thought we could match."_ He blinked, tearing the wrapping paper off and opening the box.

"Ivan...you didn't have too." He whispered to himself, slipping the soft creamy white scarf out of the box. At its tail end sported the American flag on one side and the letters "USA" on the other. "Shit...I didn't get you anything...I didn't get anyone anything." Alfred mumbled, feeling horrible and pathetic. He didn't deserve this gift. He had plenty of time to buy his family _something. _Hell, the though of giving Ivan a gift had never even crossed his mind. Was he really that self-centered?

He wrapped the scarf around his neck loosely, it was the least he could do. With that, he ventured out of his room and down the stairs. His parents were already up, which was rare, since he could see them sitting on the couch in the family room.

He hadn't been noticed yet, and he watched as his parents were arguing quietly about something or another. He could tell by the way his English father's face grimaced as he spoke. It was most likely about their current position on said couch. Francis had his feet up on the sofa with his back leaning against the arm rest. Arthur was lying down snuggly on top of him, his head leaning against the others shoulder. A french arm around an English waist secured him down, keeping him from getting out of his position.

Seeing them together, so peaceful (even though they were bickering), especially after reliving the old neighborhood the previous nigh, he couldn't help but suddenly feel so happy. His parents had been miserable in that place, and they had been there for a much much longer time. And yet, they had persevered.

Alfred loved them so much, he really did.

That was why he quickly stumbled into the room and flung himself onto the couch.

"Alfred! What the bloody hell!" Arthur yelled, grimacing as Alfred hugged him and his husband. His little boy, in truth, weighed quite a lot. Having him lying on top of them was hurting him considerably.

"I love you guys so much." The younger blurted out, suddenly. Two pairs of adult eyes blinked at him in shock. Alfred merely continued to hug them, oblivious to his father's discomfort.

"And we love you too, cher!" Francis smiled, wrapping his arms around to hug his son, effectively sandwiching Arthur in between them. Alfred laughed lightly at the embrace, grinning brightly.

"Is there something wrong?" Arthur asked, wondering what had prompted the sudden confession. He'd rather ignore the fact that he was being squeezed until he could barely breathe, more concerned about his son.

"Nope. Just thought I'd remind you that you're the best Dad in the world." Alfred easily responded, smiling up at his father. .

"Alfred, no need to kiss up. Your gifts are already right there." Arthur brushed off, feeling his ears burn at the compliment. It was probably just a joke anyway. It usually was.

"But I'm serious! You are!" Alfred insisted and Arthur merely rolled his eyes. So, the boy pressed,"You're always there for us, and you teach us stuff, and you used to tell us the best stories, and you always protect us and you adopted us!" He listed, making the Brit flush more with each remark.

"Alright, Alright." Arthur quickly said, unable to keep the smile from tainting lips as he ruffled the boys hair. "Now hush up and get up before you crush me."

Alfred laughed again, getting up and stretching his arms and legs. They were still tired from sleeping and needed a good stretching before they could function properly.

"And moi? Am I nothing?" Francis lamented melodramatically from his place, pouting up at his son playfully. Why had Arthur gotten such a touchy moment and not him? It was so cruel!

Alfred laughed harder, "Papa, you're the best Papa in the world. It's a whole other category." The American teen assured quickly, turning toward the pile of gifts. "When can we open them?" He was getting impatient, his fingers itching to rip of the decorative paper surrounding his presents.

"When Matthieu gets home." Francis replied, nuzzling into his husband's choppy blond locks lovingly. He needed to make breakfast soon, and then perhaps start preparing for dinner...

"Where did you get that scarf, Alfred? I don't recall buying it for you..." Arthur piped up, noticing the garment for the first time. He didn't know why hadn't noticed it before since it seemed so out of place. Alfred was wearing loose sweatpants with a T-Shirt, hardly an outfit that would normally be accompanied by a scarf.

Alfred blinked, tugging at the garment self consciously, "Oh, Ivan gave it to me for Christmas." He answered, a small smile teasing his lips as he looked down at the ground.

"How sweet." Francis responded, sending his husband a warning look. Arthur merely huffed but remained obediently silent on the subject. He didn't want to get into a fight. Especially today.

"That reminds me..."The American looked down at his feet, biting at his lower lip, "I..I didn't get you guys anything because of all that happened." He mumbled before lifting his head up quickly. He felt terrible. They always exchanged gifts, it was tradition! And he'd ruined it. "But don't worry! I'll get you something ASAP!" He quickly assured. The guilt was just too much.

"Alfred, you don't need to get us anything. We are just happy that you are home." Francis quieted with a wave of his hand. That's all that really mattered anyway.

"Mattie said the same thing..." Alfred muttered, still feeling guilty no matter what.

"What did I say that was the same?" Matthew asked, entering the room and making everyone jump.

"Holy! Mattie how long have you been here?" Alfred asked in shock. He hated when his brother did that, just kinda popped out of no where. It was scary as hell.

"Only a minute, I pulled in like five minutes ago." His brother answered with a shrug, plopping himself down on the floor tiredly. His mind was still occupied with dissecting Ivan's chilling words. They couldn't be true. They just couldn't be.

Alfred sat down beside him, eyeing the colorfully wrapped gifts, "Now can we start?"

Arthur let out a light chuckle, "Yes go on, before you explode." He conceded, sitting up slightly as Francis loosened his grip.

* * *

"I can't wait to play this!" Alfred shouted out, finally finishing unwrapping all of his gifts. He'd gotten so many video games he just couldn't wait!

"I shall go start breakfast." Francis decided, standing up and exiting the room. He could have started earlier, but the best part of the holiday was seeing his boy's faces light up with every gift opened. He couldn't miss that.

"Wait for me, frog." Arthur glowered, standing up as well and stretching slightly. "Ng, I'm getting too old for this." He muttered too himself as he left the room to follow after his husband.

Matthew bit at his lip, watching his parents leave. Old? They weren't old. Were they? What if...

"Mattie? Somethin' wrong?" Alfred asked, only flicking his gaze at his brother as he read the back of one of the video games he had just gotten. It looked kick ass.

"Al...When we grow up and move out...We're still going to see each other...right?" Matthew mumbled, his voice wavering slightly.

Alfred looked up, tilting his head. "Of course we will." What a stupid question. It was a total no brainer.

"No I mean...We're not going to be like those families who drift apart until they only exchange one phone call twice a year?" Matthew continued, feeling his worry growing with each word he spoke. He didn't want to be like that.

"What? No! Where would you get that idea?" Alfred asked, putting his video game down to actually look at his brother.

"Nowhere..." Matthew quickly lied, averting his gaze to the floor and stared at his bent knees.

Alfred crawled over, "Mattie, you're my twin brother. I'm not going to leave you. No hero would ever leave his sidekick." He assured, putting a hand on his should for good measure.

Matthew looked at him humorlessly, "And what if the leading lady told him too?"

Alfred scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion, "Huh?" What was that suppose to mean?

"Never mind." The younger sighed, shrugging off the hand on his shoulder.

"Mattie, when we go to college you're going to go to a super amazing school and I'm going to go to the cheapest one that's nearby. And we're going to hang out every weekend. And then, when we graduate we're going to live in some apartment together until we get awesome jobs. Then we're gonna move into neighboring houses and have separate families and be each others kids' awesome uncles. I've figured it all out." Alfred explained seriously, knocking each fact of on his fingers.

Matthew smiled, feeling a little relieved by his brother's words, "I'd like that, Al." Still, he was unsure about it all and he really did fear for their futu-

"Arthur! Non! Don't touch the ham!"

"I was just making sure it was seasoned right!"

"Careful! Mon Dieu get your hip away from the oven dial!"  
"What?"

There was some shuffling, some shoving and a cry.

And suddenly the familiar beep of the fire alarm.

"Bête sauvage! Regard qu'est ce que tu a fais! Maintenant je dois recommencer le diner!" (_Savage beast! _[it's an insult, my mom uses it a lot] _Look what you've done! Now I have to restart the dinner preparations!_)

"Sorry! I was only trying to help!"

"Get out of the kitchen! That's the only way you can help!"

Arthur huffed, stomping out of the smoky area and crossing his arms. He'd only been trying to help. Francis seemed slightly stressed from all the cooking he'd done in the past 24 hours and he thought that perhaps he could aid him. Obviously the frog didn't deserve his help.

"Mattie. Mattie whats wrong?" Alfred asked worriedly as his brother looked so gloomy all of a sudden. Almost as if he was going to cry. And if there was one thing Alfred couldn't take, it was when his twin cried.

The other shook his head, biting his lip.

Arthur came over, alarmed, "Matthew? You're not upset because we fought are you? It's normal!" He assured quickly. It was all the Frenchman's fault! "Francis! You made Matthew upset!"

"_I_ made Matthew upset? _You ruined_ our dinner! That is probably why he is upset!" Francis snapped, moving from his kitchen looking frazzled and frustrated. Still, at the words that his precious Matthieu was upset he had to abandon his post to make sure he was all right.

"I-It's not that!" Matthew assured.

"What's wrong then?" Alfred pressed, frowning

"J-Just...I don't want to leave. I want to stay like this. With Papa and Dad fighting and Alfred being annoying. I don't want to leave and have us drift apart to the point where we never see each other! And I don't want you to die!" He blurted out, reddening slightly at how childish and stupid he sounded.

The trio blinked at each other before they erupted into a chorus of voices all speaking at the same time.

"Matthieu, where ever did you get such an idea?"  
"Die? Matthew we're far from death I assure you! We aren't that old!"

"Mattie! I told you before we'll always be side by side!"

"That's it, I'll make pancakes for breakfast."

"I'll play Portal co-op with you instead of L.A. Noire!"

"I'll finally mend the hole in your favorite hockey sweatshirt."

Matthew couldn't help but laugh at the sudden outburst. They really did always know how to turn his mood around. He loved his family so much.

* * *

"Ivan?"

The Russian teenager lifted his head and looked up at his guardian, "Da?" He had returned home quite some time ago. Ever since his conversation with the youngest Bonnefoy, he was plagued with thoughts of his sisters. Thoughts of his past. Images of his deeds. It wouldn't stop.

He wanted Alfred.

"Erm...I heard that you liked to ice skate...so umm M-Merry Christmas." The man stammered, holding out a neatly wrapped gift. He hoped what she had said was true...

"Oh. Thank you." Ivan took the gift, unwrapping it to find a pair of sleek new ice skates. He peered at them for a moment before turning to Toris skeptically, "How did you know I liked to ice skate?" He didn't recall ever mentioning it to him. He didn't normally speak to the timid man, ever.

The brunette paled lightly at the intense look, "Well, er I am sure I heard it somewhere! And well, there's an ice rink not too far away...so I thought..." Toris continued to stammer, fidgeting as he was put on the spot.

"Did Alfred tell you?" Ivan asked, because really he was the only one who knew as far as he was concerned. He had only ever mentioned his ice skating interests during their first date those few weeks ago...

"Ah? Er yes! I guess it was him. Yes, that's right he told me during his stay here." Toris breathed a sigh of relief a he was saved by some merciful grace from above.

Ivan didn't entirely believe him but nodded anyway. He would much rather be alone than interrogating the Lithuanian. He was tired, he was bored, he was _lonely_. And the brunette only made him feel lonelier. He wished he could have stayed with Alfred at his home. At least he had his birthday to look forward too.

* * *

Alfred rang the doorbell, fidgeting on the doorstep because it was way too fucking cold to be outside and what was taking Ivan so long to open the damn do-

"Alfred."

"Hey!" Alfred greeting, pushing himself in through the doorway and into the cozy home. Finally, warmth.

"Alfred." Ivan repeated, a smirk adorning his features as he tugged on the scarf around his boyfriend's neck, "You are wearing the scarf."

Alfred blinked, turning his eyes down and reddening slightly. "Oh..Uh yeah, thanks." He mumbled awkwardly, only slightly creeped out by the growing smile on the others face. It sent shivers down his spine. He wasn't entirely sure if they were pleasant or not...

"You like it?" Ivan continued, looking at him expectantly.

"Huh? Y-yeah! I like it. I wouldn't be wearing it otherwise..." Alfred answered sheepishly, before letting out a manly squeak of surprise as he was suddenly lifted from the ground. Ivan held him tightly, looking up into his surprised face.

"I am so glad." The Russian stated before pressing those slightly parted lips into a kiss. Alfred regained his thoughts, kissing back easily though unable to use his arms. He wanted to loop them around the other teen's neck but it was impossible with them being trapped by Ivan's own arms.

"Yeah yeah, now let me down!" Alfred said breathlessly when they parted and Ivan acquiesced with a light giggle. He set the American down on the ground, carefully.

"You are so very cute Alfred." Ivan commented, kissing him once more. It was just so addicting.

"I am not cute." Alfred grumbled, "Now, are we going to do something or you just going to kiss me all day?"  
"I'd much prefer the latter." Ivan decided, tugging him even closer.

"Oh. Alfred!"

The American quickly pulled away from the embrace, blushing brightly as he saw Toris peeking his head into the hallway. "T-Tor?" How long had he been there?

"You must be here for Ivan's birthday!" Toris exclaimed happily, glad his ward had actually decided to do something.

Though, he paled when he was met with silence from the normally very talkative blond. Alfred tilted his head, his eyebrows drawing closer together. Birthday? Ivan's birthday? Today? Today was Ivan's birthday?

"It's your birthday?" Alfred asked, turning his gaze toward Ivan.

"Da." Ivan answered easily.

"...Why didn't you tell me?"

"It did not seem important." Ivan replied and was met with a stare. Had he said something wrong?

"Not important? Dude! You're birthday is super important! You have to have a party, cake and presents! It's the day the world celebrates you! Of course it's important!" Alfred cried, looking at the taller in disbelief.

"Nyet, I don't find any of that interesting." Ivan brushed off, running a finger through the American's hair, flicking his cowlick playfully. He couldn't help it, he needed to touch him, if only a little.

"You never find anything interesting!" Alfred huffed in frustration. Why was his boyfriend so weird? So creepy? He slapped the hand away from his hair, it felt weird.

"That is not true. I find you very interesting." Ivan replied, smile growing.

Alfred blushed crossing his arms, before letting them drop. What was he doing? He was criticizing him again... "Shit..." He was the worst boyfriend ever.

"What is wrong?" Ivan asked, alarmed at the sudden mood change. Had he done something wrong? Was Alfred going to ignore his existence for a week like in previous instances?

"I... You let me stay at your house for a week and you got me a Christmas present. I haven't done anything! I didn't get you a gift, not for Christmas nor for your birthday! I didn't even know it was your birthday!"

"It is ok." Ivan assured. It didn't bother him, as long as Alfred was happy and stayed with him. As long as he wasn't lonely.

"No. It's not. Wait, do you know when my birthday is?"

"July 4th." Ivan answered instantly.  
"Shit! How do you know?" Now he felt even worse!

"You told me."

Alfred made a noise of frustration. Did he know anything about Ivan? Was he that self-centered? He was so stupid! All this time he was always criticizing Ivan for being weird or creepy. In reality he himself was the one being the horrible boyfriend! Shit.

"I... What do you want for Christmas and your birthday? Just tell me and I'll get it! Anything." He quickly stated, if only to stop the guilt that flowed through his stomach.

Ivan stared at him, "Anything?"

"Yes, anything. I feel terrible!"

Ivan grabbed his hand, dragging him up the stairs without a word. Alfred was about to protest when he was pushed into the Russian's room, falling down onto the bed. He attempted to sit up but Ivan climbed up over him. Blue eyes widened and he immediately tensed.

"Woah! No sex!" Alfred quickly said, backing up nervously. He didn't mean _anything_ anything!

"You did say anything." Ivan pointed out, "But that was not what I wanted. Well, not entirely." He quickly continued, seeing the panic suddenly appear in the others beautiful blue eyes.

Alfred hesitated, "Well? What did you want, then?"

"I want to see you naked."

"Wh-what?" Alfred asked, blushing oh so darkly as those violet eyes practically bored into him. He hadn't expected that, that was for sure.

"I want to see you. All of you. Naked before me with only the scarf I gave you around your neck." Ivan clarified, keeping his gaze steady on the teen beneath him.

Alfred took in a sharp breath, suddenly feeling very hot at the way Ivan spoke his wish. He was so serious, so earnest yet so childishly demanding. And those violet eyes. Those damn violet eyes held his gaze, pressing him to agree until all he could muster out was a stuttered, "F-Fine."

And those damn violet eyes lit up.

* * *

I'm such a tease. Lol

Guys, I'm sorry this is two hours late...But its up so yay!  
Next Chapter: Well, we pick up where we left off~ hon hon hon

I'm super tired right now since its almost 3 am... Night guys!  
And review with love!


	39. Chapter 38

Alfred swallowed heavily, wondering what he had just got himself into. He sat up nervously, Ivan's eyes never wavering from their gaze on his own blue orbs. The American moved his fingers to his scarf, ready to unwrap it when a gloved hand stopped him.

"I wish to have it remain." Ivan reiterated, his hand holding the others wrist away, gently though. He did not want to hurt the blond accidentally and scare him off.

"I know. But I can't take my shirt off with it on." Alfred snapped, trying to cover up his embarrassment with anger. His father always did it, he might as well try it out.

Ivan hesitated before releasing his wrist, giving a small nod.

Alfred quickly unwrapped the scarf from his neck before tugging his shirt off impatiently. He might as well just get it over with. He froze when gloved hands ran along his now bare sides. He shivered, blushing even more if it were possible before sending a glare at his boyfriend.

"Hey! What do you think you're doin'?" Alfred growled, gritting his teeth as the taller teen continued his ministrations. It did not feel good. At all.

"Admiring your beauty." Ivan replied easily, running his hands along the smooth, lightly tanned skin. The way the others body trembled slightly at his feathery touches made him smirk even more.

Alfred tried to bat the hands away but they were insistent. At one point he thought he had won as the hands finally left him. It was short lived though, because they only departed in order to retrieve the discarded scarf and wrap it back around his neck. Once their mission was complete, they returned to their task of sending shivers down Alfred's spine.

"Iva-" He tried to complain in his best whiny voice, only to be cut off by Russian lips. Ivan really knew how to shut him up because soon he found himself wrapping his arms around the taller teen's neck, deepening the kiss. He gasped into the kiss when those gloved fingers returned to running against his chest, leaving small tremors in their wake.

He pulled away when he felt those hands venture lower, tugging at his jeans. "I kn-know! I'll take them off, just move off me a little so I can—Hey!" Alfred yelped in surprise as Ivan pushed him down forcing him to lie down on his back. He looked up at the paler teen, confused.

"Do not worry дорогой, I will take them off for you." _(dear)_ Ivan said helpfully, letting out a light giggle at the flushed face before him. Oh he loved this gift very much.

"I c-can do it myse-ah!" Alfred clenched his eyes shut, as well as his fists, when Ivan brushed against his crotch. His fingers lingered there teasingly. Ivan put more pressure than really necessary as he tugged the button out of his boyfriend's blue jeans and zipped the zipper down. He tugged the jeans down, past his knees before returning to the others boxers.

Alfred hissed when those hands began to massage him just through that thin piece of fabric. Shit, he was hard. This wasn't fair! This wasn't suppose to happen! He was just suppose strip and put his clothes back on. There wasn't suppose to be any sort of touching! Oh God, why did it feel so fucking good?

Ivan's smirk only grew, much like the hot member only a thin layer of fabric away. He slipped the boxers off with little ceremony, overcome with a need to see Alfred. All of him. To touch him.

Alfred squirmed, drawing his legs up instinctively. He felt so damn vulnerable. And embarrassed. His boyfriend was just staring at well, _him._ Sure, Alfred loved attention, but not this kind! This was so not cool. How did this escalate so quickly? Why—_oh God_ Ivan better touch him again!

Ivan, oblivious to the American's inner monologue, had wrapped his hand around the other. He reveled in the sudden moan Alfred made. Oh he loved that sound. He wanted to hear more of it. Knowing the blond made that sound only because of him, and his fleeting touches, made it all the better. It felt so very good.

"Ah, Ivan." Alfred groaned out as the pale teen began to pump his length. His own arm moved up to cover his face. Fuck, he was so embarrassed. Ivan was giving him a handjob and all he could think about was that wet dream all that time ago. He was hot and it felt so damn good. Except, for one fact, "Ngh T-take your glove off."

Ivan stiffened, looking up at the flushed face before him. He could only see slivers of the others brilliant blue eyes, his eyelids covering most of the beautiful orbs. He looked down at his gloved hands hesitantly, before returning his gaze to the lightly panting teen.

He let go of the member quickly, ignoring the little whine that emanated from the blond the second he did so, and slipped the glove off with his teeth. He couldn't get blood on it in this situation. He was perfectly fine. He could do this. Everything would be just fine.

It was worth it to here that beautiful groan when he wrapped his hands around Alfred's cock once more. The way he arched his back ever so slightly and how his arm fell from its place, no longer shielding his flushed face. He pumped faster, basking in the sound of the American's pants, groans and moans. It was music to his ears.

Alfred was having a hard time staying in control. It just felt too damn good, especially those violet staring at him, watching him the entire time. Studying him, almost. It was so...so erotic in its own way. He twisted in the sheets, feeling himself getting oh so very close. And then Ivan kissed him, never slowing the rhythm he'd set up with his hand. Alfred's arms shot up to grip pale blond hair desperately, kissing him back. Ivan responded by pulling away only an inch, there noses still brushing and swiping the sensitive tip of his member with his thumb. And it was just too much.

Alfred came with a cry, falling back down on the bed in a tired panting heap. Ivan blinked, lifting his hand to see it covered in the others essence. If he recalled correctly, most people tasted it... He bent his head down, giving it a tentatively lick before grimacing. Maybe it would taste better later. For now, he rubbed the semen onto the sheets before shifting his gaze back on his slowly recovering boyfriend.

"I-Ivan, why'd you do that!" Alfred whined as he sat up, still trying to regain his breath. His heart was still beating erratically and he could feel just how flushed his face was.

"You did not like it?" Ivan asked with a knowing smirk, tilted his head slightly.

"No, I did—. I mean. I—Oh who gives a shit." Alfred sighed, tugging Ivan down so the he could cuddle with him. What could he say, he was a cuddler! Ivan stiffened at the sudden motion before reciprocating the embrace.

Alfred was extremely tempted to fall asleep right there, pressed against his boyfriend's warm body. As his eyes closed, they caught sight of the sunflower painting hanging in Ivan's room. Hmm, Ivan sure liked sunflowers. He painted them all the time in Art class... He wondered why.

"Ivan?" He asked, his eyes closed tiredly, "What up with the sunflowers?"

"I like them. They are bright and lively, filled with hope as they look up to the sun. I am sure they are a lovely sight in person." Ivan answered easily, tucking the American's head underneath his chin to bring him closer.

"...You've never seen one?" Alfred asked, incredulously, pulling away slightly. But they were like everywhere! They had like a whole field of them only a few miles away!

"Nyet, not in person." The Russian tried to pull him back into his embrace, missing the warmth. Unfortunately, Alfred pulled away completely, pulling up his boxers and pants before searching for his shirt. "What are you doing?"

"Dressing. Come on. I still owe you a gift." Alfred replied curtly, slipping his shirt on and re-wrapping his scarf around his neck. He hoped his hair wasn't too messy...

"I thought that was my gift?" Ivan asked confused, standing up obediently and slipping his glove on once more. He didn't want to have another breakdown, especially now.

"Yeah, that was your birthday gift. Now I have to give you a Christmas one. Let's go!"

* * *

Matthew smiled up at the Italian as he let him into the home. Alfred had gone off to see Ivan so he decided he could drop by at Gilbert's house and make sure he was ok. He hadn't spoken to him since Christmas and it was beginning to wear him down. He missed his albino lover.

"I wasn't expecting you today, Mattie!" Feliciano greeted, closing the door. "Ludwig's at work but Gillie is up in his room."

"Mr. Bielshmidt went back to work already?" Matthew said, surprised. Dad and Papa always took a week off after Christmas to spend time with them. It was tradition.

"I know! He always goes straight back to work the day after Christmas! He never takes a day off. He needs to stop being so business minded." Feli sighed, "He needs to have more fun! Ah, but you don't need to listen to me complaining. Go see Gillie, he'll be so happy that you're here!" Feliciano blabbered on, ushering the teenager up the stairs with a nice warm smile.

Matthew let out a quiet laugh before climbing up the stairs to the familiar room. He knocked on it softly, opening the door.

"I don't want any pasta, Feli-Matt! What are you doing here?" Gilbert asked, his face lighting up. He stood up from where he had been kneeling on the floor, running over to greet his boyfriend with a hug and a kiss. Matthew laughed, returning the favor before his eyes spotted the large chest in front of him.

"So, what's that?" He asked, pointing to it. He'd been in Gilbert's room many many times, and he'd never seen the large trunk at any of those times.

"Huh? Oh...It's a chest I found in the attic. It's full of stuff from before I was born." He mumbled, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

"Oh." Matthew flicked his eyes from the offending piece of furniture back to his boyfriend, concern swimming in the violet blue gaze.

"Yeah..." Gilbert didn't meet his gaze, instead, focusing on the floor. "You know West, he's so meticulous he kept everything all organized. He kept everything practically... It's weird." He continued to blabber, watching nervously as Matthew took a few steps closer.

"Can...Can I look?" The taller teen asked, politely. Gilbert faltered, darting his reddish eyes at the chest and then back at his boyfriend. He could never say no to the cute violet eyed boy.

"Yeah..I guess." He answered, coming over and kneeling down. Matthew sat down beside him, leaning over to look into the large trunk. It was filled with books, albums and letters. Most of them were yellowing with age. He took out a book, blowing off the dust.

"What's this?" He asked, turning the small notebook over in his hands curiously.

Gilbert looked over, "Oh. That's one of West's journals. He records everything. His aren't as awesome as mine, though." He added with a grin. Matthew rolled his eyes, looking over at one of his boyfriend's shelves which housed his extensive library of diaries. The other loved to chronicle his adventures in the books. Matthew flipped through one once and never did so again.

"So that's where you get it from," He mumbled, flipping through the pages. He felt a little odd, going through someone elses (especially stern Mr. Bielshmidt's) personal journal. Though, it seemed to read as mechanically as a manual. Very different from Gilbert's fantastical and exaggerated writing.

Still, he couldn't help it when he did start reading it, catching a name he didn't recognize."Who's Heidi?" He asked, pointing at the place it was found on the page.

Gilbert looked over again, "That's my mom..." He replied awkwardly, his hands fidgeting inside the worn out chest.

"Oh." Matthew closed the journal, feeling more than a little rude for inquiring so much. Still, he really did want to know. "..So she just left?" He really didn't understand what had happened. How could she just leave? And never visit, or send a letter or anything?

"She and West had been fallin' apart for a while... She wasn't suppose to get pregnant with me. They were thinking of getting a divorce when it happened. West promised her if she had the baby she could leave and have nothing to do with us." The Prussian shrugged, focusing on the trunk and not what he was saying. It didn't bother him. It didn't bother him.

"Gil, you know you don't have to keep looking at this stuff." Matthew mumbled. It was clearly evident how much this was hurting his albino. He hated seeing him so down. He wasn't even using the word awesome to obnoxious levels. He'd maybe only used it once in the entire conversation.

"Yeah I do. I want to know. I need to know." Gilbert snapped back, fiddling with the papers. Matthew wouldn't understand it. He wanted to know why, why she'd left, why she never even sent him a message, why she wanted to get rid of him so bad that she would try and get a fucking abortion without telling West about it.

What kind of person does that to someone? Tells there husband she's pregnant only to fucking go to an abortion clinic a weak or to later without telling him. Leaving him to find out when the stupid lady at the desk called the house to state the appointment was going to have to be later. Forcing him to fucking speed to the address to argue with her in the very parking lot to come back home. And then agreeing she could leave him the minute she had the fucking baby she was so desperate to get rid off. What the fuck was wrong with this world when that was fucking ok? If that lady hadn't called...Fuck he wouldn't even be here right now to—His head shot up when a hand covered his own. He'd started shaking. Shit, his eyes were prickling. Awesome people didn't fucking cry. He blinked them back quickly.

"Let's go get ice cream." Matthew said softly.

"Matt, can't you see I'm doing this?" Gilbert snapped back, returning his gaze to the stupid chest because he just couldn't look into those violet blue eyes. He just couldn't.

"And you need a break." Matthew continued, undeterred. He stood up, tugging the Prussian up with him. "Let's go out. We haven't gone out in forever." Matthew put on a playful smile, "And you always said that you were an awesome boyfriend. I feel neglected and lonely." He sighed sadly, his eyes big and sorrowful. It pulled at the Prussian's already sensitive heart strings.

"Of course I'm an awesome boyfriend! Come on, I'm gonna buy you the biggest strawberry ice cream cone!" Gilbert assured, grabbing his hand and running down the steps. Matthew laughed lightly, letting himself be dragged. This was the Gilbert he loved. He was determined to keep him.

* * *

Ivan looked out the car window, puzzled. He'd been pushed into the American's vehicle with little ceremony and with little to no explanation of their current destination. Alfred kept insisting it was a surprise and that saying where they were going would ruin the gift.

Ivan never really cared much for surprises.

Still, he went along with Alfred because the other seemed very excited about this place. And Ivan did love to see Alfred happy and excited.

It wasn't very far, in reality. Perhaps 10 minutes, 15 at the most from Ivan's current residence. Though, it didn't seem like they had arrived anywhere. Alfred had gone the opposite way of the city, and there was barely anything here. Still, the blond parked his car and got out, motioning for his boyfriend to do the same.

"Alfred where are we?" Ivan asked, unamused. There was nothing here. It seemed to be farmland of sorts, he could see a barn a little ways ahead but that was about it.

"You'll see in a minute!" Alfred snapped, but with a grin plastered to his face so he couldn't have been angry. In fact, he was bouncing on his feet in childish excitement. He was so very adorable at times. Alfred untied his own scarf, much to Ivan's disappointment and edged toward him.

"What are you planning?" Ivan asked skeptically, with a raised brow. This did not bode well for him, he was sure of it.

"I want to blindfold you! It has to be a surprise!" Alfred insisted, holding out the scarf with a mischievous grin. Ivan took a step back, holding out his hands.

"Nyet, Alfred. I much prefer to keep my vision." Sometimes the nightmares plagued him when he was awake. Sometimes he'd close his eyes only to find those horrifyingly hollow ones staring back at him. Reminding him. He would never be able to forget, to move on, to liv—

"Don't ruin it! Come on." Alfred whined, trying hard not to laugh.

"I said no." Ivan remained adamant, frowning at the other.

But, it seemed Alfred was no longer listening as he advanced forward quickly. Ivan, though, realized this and quickly side stepped him. However, Alfred was being quite persistent and the Russian found himself running away from a laughing American in moments.

Ivan wasn't really paying attention as to where his feet were taking them, just as long as they kept him away from his hysterical boyfriend. Alfred was finding way too much fun in their current predicament. He certainly wasn't enjoying having to run away from the laughing baffon. (It especially didn't help that Ivan was wearing a heavy coat and wasn't much for sports while Alfred, never mind his horrid diet, was one of the schools leading athletes.) Still, he was keeping a good distance from the other. And then he hit a fence.

He looked up alarmed, seeing a barren field. Wilting stalks still littered the area but the snow must have killed most of the plant or crop that grew there. He leaned against the fence, out of breath and with no where else to go. Unless he hoped it, but he didn't want to get way from Alfred that much.

He tensed when a hand touched his shoulder. He whirled around and immediately relaxed at the sight of Alfred, still laughing and all smiles. The scarf was once more around his neck instead of in his hands. "Are you not going to blindfold me?" Ivan asked, still panting lightly.

Alfred wiped a tear from his eye, he'd been laughing that hard. "Why would I do that? We're already here." Alfred smiled, and Ivan tilted his head. He still didn't understand what 'here' was. Alfred smile grew softer, and he tugged Ivan's arm slightly so he would turn to the left. And then he saw it.

Beside him was a barn—this whole area seemed to be a farm of sorts—and on the side of it was painted a mural like painting.

It was an endless golden field of sunflowers bordered by the clearest of blue skys. Painted delicately with fine brush strokes and a brilliant pallet. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"I wish it was summer." Alfred mumbled in the silence, standing beside him. "Then you could see them for real! All in the field." He continued, playing with the hem of his shirt.

"Field?" Ivan reiterated, his eyes never leaving the painting. Not until he could memorize every detail in his mind would he look away.

"Yeah, the one over there. It's all sunflowers. Dad and Papa took us a few times when we were little..." He smiled warmly at the memory. Of summer days, where Papa would buy from the farmer's market while he, Mattie and Dad would wander around the sunflower field.

Ivan turned his head toward Alfred, and felt his heart quicken. Alfred looked...he looked so-so _красивый_, he couldn't even express it in English. His hair blew slightly in the light breeze and his eyes shined behind his clear glasses. His smile was soft, happy and loving. The sun shone its light on him in such a way as to make him glow.

Ivan had been wrong. Alfred was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Seeing him like that, looking at him with shining blue eyes and a natural smile he felt himself blurt out three simple words. Not as horrible as the other one's he had uttered that night after dinner, no. But equally as potent if taken the wrong way. Staring into those sapphire pools his words tumbled out,

"I love you."

Alfred tensed and stared at him, slowly beginning to blush again. The American hadn't expected that. No, not at all. Maybe before, with what the Russian was doing to him in the bed. But not here, out of the blue.

"I am sorry." Ivan quickly covered, turning away slightly and looking up at the mural. His one pale cheeks seemed to redden slightly at the lack of reaction. All the sites he'd read had told him that confessing too early could scare your partner away. He had ruined it, hadn't he? But they were so close now! He'd touched him! Surely he could salvage the situation somehow.

"Why are you sorry?" Alfred asked, getting Ivan's attention once more. "I...Maybe...Love you too." Alfred mumbled sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. "B-But! I don't know...I've never loved anyone before. And we haven't been dating that long." He quickly covered.

Ivan blinked, "I have read the symptoms of love. I have them all." he replied, "My heart beats faster, I am happier around you, I want to spend all of my time with you..." He began to list, counting off his fingers mechanically one by one.

Alfred had gotten redder and redder as Ivan spoke,until finally he had to make it stop. He moved forward, kissing the Russian who immediately stopped listing and kissed right back.

"If you do not believe this is love...Then I will just convince you that you are, in fact, in love with me." Ivan decided, squeezing the American boy tighter in his arms.

Alfred let out a soft laugh, feeling more relaxed then he'd been in a while. He didn't reply, verbally at least, and just kissed his boyfriend again. He knew it wouldn't be very hard to convince him anyway.

* * *

"I can't leave right now...I...He's fine, don't worry...I can't...Pl-please don't cry..." The brunette spoke into the phone in quiet hurried Russian, "It's going to be alright. I'll talk to them, ok? Everything's going to work out just fine. I'm sure...They'll let her go!...You don't have to worry about that, I want to help you!...Shh, please stop crying...I-I'll come over as soon as I can, I promise...The money should arrive soon. Hang in there, alright?" Toris hung up, hanging his head. He ran his fingers through his hair, leaning his elbows on the counter.

Everything would be fine, he repeated to himself, she was staying at his friend's house now. She'd be safe there. He was sending money to get the other one. Then he'd get them over here. It would be ok.

He looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder, seeing his younger brother, Eduard. He gave him a reassuring smile before following him back to the dinner table.

Everything would be fine.

* * *

BTW красивый=beautiful in Russian.

OH MY GOD FF HATES ME. IT WOULDN'T FORMAT. IM GOING TO CRY. JUST GIVE ME A MOMENT.

Ok. Sorry, it was hell to get this chapter uploaded. Lets leave it at that. Anyway~

OTL This is shorter than I thought it would be. Its also fluffy. Actually its smexy, then angsty, then fluffy...then vague... X)

I love this story so much~

Anyways, next chapter I'm pretty sure we're having a little time skip...I still have to figure out how I'm doing the next chapter. Orz I'm a failure.

I'll see all next Sunday~

Oh, and out of curiosity, anybody going to Otakon? Because I am~

Remember to review, my pretties~ (HOLY SHIT ALMOST A 1000 HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE)


	40. Chapter 39

Alfred finally relaxed into his new relationship, no longer worrying, no longer thinking. He just accepted and enjoyed the ride. Days past, weeks went by and Winter Break faded. Spring began to creep its way in, thawing the snow Ivan hated so much.

Arthur, though, was still wary. There was this nagging feeling in the back of his head that just would not leave him. Ivan...Ivan meant trouble. No matter how happy Alfred seemed he just couldn't brush it away. Francis didn't share his views and warned him numerous times to "leave the two lovebirds alone". Perhaps he was just being over protective like his husband said. Still...

Matthew was happy for his brother. Alfred seemed to be as carefree as always and he always seemed happiest when dragging Ivan around on different dates. The younger twin was more concerned with his own boyfriend who had thankfully lightened up some. He had returned to his obnoxious loveable self though he still fiddled with his father's old stuff. At least it didn't consume him as much. And whenever he seemed to sadden, Matthew immediately took him out for ice cream, or to somewhere the albino was sure to enjoy himself.

It was a soft breezy morning in early March when Alfred and Ivan were walking about. "And we're gonna dress up as astronauts too! And we'll—" Ivan quieted his boyfriend with a quick kiss, smiling as he pouted up at him.

"Alfred, how will we ever procure astronaut clothing by Monday when the project is due?" Ivan insisted, ignoring how his American boy simply crossed his arms and glared at him.

"I'm just trying to make our Space Race project awesome. Stop being such a downer." He snapped, moving to walk faster without the Russian. Ivan sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips as he hurried after the other.

His arms looped around the slimmer waist when he did catch up, hugging him tightly. He even lifted him off the ground slightly, just to hear the cute little squeak of surprise and see that annoyed glare. He nuzzled into the back of Alfred's neck as he kicked wildly in the air.

"P-put me down! Ivan!" He shouted, squirming about in the grip. Ivan let out a soft giggle, setting him back on the ground after only a moment. He didn't remove his hold around him, though. Alfred turned around, facing the taller teen and sticking out his bottom lip.

"You know I hate it when you do that." He stated, glaring at his boyfriend's chest instead of his face.

"Ah, but you are so cute!" Ivan responded, leaning down so they could look at each other eye to eye. Alfred blushed shyly.

"I'm not cute! I'm handsome. I'm a man, for God's sakes." Alfred glowered, pouting further.

"Hmm? Why don't you prove it, little American." Oh how Ivan loved to ruffle his feathers.

Alfred looked up after a second, giving him a determined look. A playful little smirk tugged at his lips and Ivan knew he was up to something. Something bad, he was sure.

"A man is an athlete. And I can run helluva a lot faster then you." Alfred reminded, the smirk growing as he spoke.

And before Ivan could even reply, the American had bolted down the city sidewalk. Ivan blinked, hearing Alfred's laughs in the distance and frowned. Oh, his little sunflower was not getting away so easily. He started on a run, his scarf flowing freely behind him in the breeze.

* * *

"Toris?" Arthur blinked, opening the door for his friend to enter his home, "I wasn't expecting you. Ivan and Alfred went out.." My, the boy was pale! He did not look well at all, "Toris? Are you all right? Come sit on the couch. Francis! Make some tea! Toris seems to be ill." He called into the kitchen, hoping his husband would hear the tone of his voice and not argue.

"I-I'm fine! Really." Toris responded quickly, sitting down in the offered seat. "I'm just a little nervous."

"About what?" Arthur inquired, sitting down in his arm chair. He crossed his legs before giving his guest his full attention.

"I...I have a favor to ask you..." The brunette began, wringing his hands in his lap. He was fidgeting all over the place. His eyes darting around the room, and his feet twitching on the floor.

Francis came into the room, greeting the young man with a smile and placing the teacups on the table. Toris thanked him quickly, but didn't trust his shaky hands to pick up one of the delicate pieces.

"Well, tell us. I'm sure we can help." Arthur pressed, taking his tea and sipping at it. Francis wasn't getting a thank you from him for bringing it. Though, he didn't slap him away when he pecked his lips quickly before sitting down on the couch.

"I...I have an important business meeting. In Europe." He started, keeping his eyes on the carpeted floor, "And..I'm going to be gone for a week or more, I think." He flicked his gaze to the couple, "I was wondering if-if Ivan could stay here while I'm away. I don't know if I should leave him alone for so long..."

Arthur stiffened. Ivan staying at his home, for a week? Staying with Alfred...He didn't even like the two having sleepovers! He wanted none of-of _that_ to start. Alfred was still his baby and he'd be—

"Of course he can stay, Toris." Francis answered with a reassuring smile before his husband could reject. He sent the blond a warning look, telling him to shut up. Arthur glared back but kept his mouth obediently shut. The frog was right, they couldn't just deny their friend aid.

"I-Thank you so much!" The Lithuanian blurted out, lifting his head from the ground. He looked so relieved, like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders, "Don't worry! I'm sure he'll behave and it won't be long!"

Francis let out a soft chuckle, "He is always welcome, Toris. When is the trip?"

"I leave Friday. Thank you, again." The brunette responded, smiling softly at the couple gratefully.

* * *

Alfred was out of breath. Not from the running, but from all the laughing he had been doing. His stomach hurt so much! And he was crying too! He wiped at his eyes, lifting his head up to see if Ivan was far away or if he'd lost him. He'd have to go back and hug him or something since the other would undoubtedly be pissed at him for making him run so much. Still, it was the easiest way to see the pale stoic face slightly flushed... He wished Ivan would blush more often, it always seemed like he himself was the only one ever getting embar—

He froze. He hadn't recognized it at first. It looked completely different. But now that he saw the address he recognized it immediately. It was well kept, fixed up, and others would find it a quaint little town home. Alfred saw none of that. All he saw was what it once was, and it terrified him.

Ivan turned the corner and spotted the American. He seemed to have stopped. Finally. Alfred was going to get it when he caught him. Perhaps he could get him to do some fun things again. Ivan smirked at the memories. Oh the they had progressed quite nicely over the past weeks in the bedroom department. Though, they hadn't had full on sex it was still quite nice. And Alfred was very talented with his mouth...

And then suddenly Alfred was running again. But not like before. Not a carefree run full of easy going laughter. No. It was a sudden desperate sprint, devoid of any humor.

Sudden concern flashed through Ivan's violet eyes before he started to run again, ignoring his tired legs. Something was horribly wrong. He'd never seen Alfred run like that.

Alfred wasn't really paying attention anymore. He just ran, staring at the ground beneath his feet. The last time he'd seen that house had been _that_ night. That horrible, horrible night. The night Dad got hurt. Because of him. The night he was scared he'd never see his fathers again. The night he was certain he and his twin would be lost in the alleys forever.

He screamed when a hand grabbed his wrist, turning him around. He fell into the familiar strong chest, recognizing it to be Ivan. The minute he realized this, he clung to his boyfriend, burying his face into the clothed chest. He could feel himself start to cry but he didn't give a damn. Because at that moment he was the little first grader left behind, the little first grader lost in the alleyways, the little first grader pushed to safety while his Dad suffered, the little first grader who cried for his Daddy and Papa to come help him.

"Alfred. Alfred what is wrong?" Ivan asked. He was never good at comforting. He was much too stiff and awkward.

"I don't want to be here. I don't want to be here. I want to go home. I want my Daddy. I want my Daddy. Please don't hurt Daddy. Please stop it. Don't cut him, please." He murmured, his pleas muffled by Ivan's clothing.

"Alfred? Alfred, you are not making sense." Ivan insisted, pulling the American away from his chest to hear him better.

"I can't be here. I can't. Take me home." Alfred begged, wiping at his eyes. He hated this place. He never wanted to come back to this horrible place.

Ivan nodded, shifting the American so he would be easier to lead home. The boy clung to his arm desperately as they hurried back.

* * *

Arthur looked up from the book he was flipping through when the door slammed open. It was just Alfred and Ivan, didn't he know better than to damage the wood with his slamming? The boy didn't know his own stren—The Englishman stood up with a start, seeing his son's red tear riddled face.

"What happened!" Arthur shouted, running over to see Alfred's miserable face. He'd never seen him so stricken, well at least not for years! What did the monster do to his baby boy?

Alfred didn't answer, but hugged his Dad tightly. This only heightened Arthur's concern and worry. The boy was bent over practically so he could bury his face in his sweater vested chest. "Alfred. Alfred what's wrong? What did he do?" He asked, bringing his arms around his son, one of them moving run through his hair.

"I saw our house. I saw it. And-And I just started to remember. And I co-couldn't stop and I hated it there!" Alfred muttered, trying to shield his face with his father's body. Why was he getting so emotional! It happened years ago. He should be over this. He shouldn't be reacting like this.

Arthur's eyes softened, "Shh, Alfred, we don't live there anymore. Everything's fine now." He soothed.

"You-You got hurt." Alfred continued, wiping at his eyes. He hated feeling like such a child. "Because of my stupidity you got hurt!"

"What? No! How could it be your fault? The school forced you to walk home! How could you not get lost?" The Englishman insisted. Alfred could not blame himself for what happened.

"But you got hurt looking for us!" The American continued, desperately.

"And I'd much rather have it be me who gets hurt and not you. I'm fine." Arthur assured.

"It scarred!"

"I'm fine." He repeated, wiping his son's face, "Now belt up. This isn't anyway a gentleman should act."

"R-right." Alfred muttered, pulling away and wiping at his own face. He could do it himself, he didn't need his dad doing it for him. "I don't know why it happened. I just...I just felt like shit all of a sudden."

"Language, Alfred." The Brit scolded automatically, "Well, there is news that you might enjoy." Alfred perked up, looking to his father with keen interest. A distraction would be awesome right about now.

"Toris is going away on a business trip for a week." The Englishman began, flicking his green eyes toward the Russian before returning his gaze to his son, "And, during that time, Ivan will be staying with us."

Alfred blinked before his face lit up with a grin, "Really? That's awesome!" He turned to his boyfriend excitedly. Oh this was going to be fun. They would be together for a whole week! The things they could do...

"But! There are rules!" Arthur snapped, getting the two teen's attention once more, "None of you know what! I want none of that in my home or ever!" _And you better not have gone that far already._

"Dad-" The young blond tried to interject but was quickly stopped.

"I mean it." The green eyed man gave him a stern glare. Alfred let out a sigh before finally giving a nod. The Englishman proceeded with his own nod of approval.

"Can we go now?" Alfred asked, tugging at his boyfriend's hand. The Brit rolled his eyes before acquiescing, returning to the family room where he had come.

Ivan let himself be taken to the others bedroom, frowning in deep thought. Alfred had been hiding something from him. And he wanted to know what it was. Also, what was this promise that they would refrain from doing anything? He certainly didn't agree to that!

Once they reached the American's bedroom he was about to ask the two burning questions but was interrupted by a kiss. He blinked as he was pushed down onto the bed, Alfred coming down with him. He lay there, slightly confused (though still kissing back because he truly did love when Alfred kissed him) with the American on top of him.

"I thought you said we were not to do this?" Ivan asked between kisses. Not that he wanted to stop, far from it. He wanted to keep going forever and ever. He was always the happiest when Alfred was close to him, and doing this would bring him as close as possible.

"That was just so Dad would stop yelling." Alfred brushed off, sitting up slightly on top of the Russian. "Like I'm gonna pass up such an awesome opportunity." He ran his fingers down the others broader chest before leaning back down for another smoldering kiss.

"Alfred." Ivan said again, pushing his boyfriend away gently. Alfred pouted but obediently stopped and gave him a quizzical look. "What happened? Why did you so suddenly begin to cry?"

Alfred stiffened and frowned, so much for having a distraction, "I...I don't know...That was my old neighborhood... And I kept thinking of that night...And I don't know." He sighed, leaning his head down to rest on the Russian's chest. "I don't know anymore."

"Tell me."

* * *

_It was a normal Tuesday in April with the chance of a stormy night. Alfred and Matthew's school day had been mostly uneventful but as the clock neared dismissal things got progressively worse.  
_

The teacher sat at her desk, reading a magazine idly as the children worked on their color by numbers math packet. They had to solve the simple problem in order to find what color to use on the portion of the picture. She allowed them to work wherever they wanted and as such most of the students were sprawled on the floor, crayons littering the ground around them.

Matthew bit his lip as he realized he needed a red crayon, one he didn't have. He nudged his brother who lay beside him and asked if he had one. Alfred shook his head, returning to his packet to shade in one section in blue. He was too focused on the assignment to really help.

Matthew peered around the room, seeing that one of the other kids had a red crayon he wasn't using. He trembled slightly before glancing at the clock and seeing that class would end soon. If he didn't finish the assignment the teacher would no doubt yell at him. She would probably yell at him anyway but he still never wanted to incite the anger.

"Ex-excuse me?" He mumbled quietly, timidly. The boy glanced up, giving him a glare. Matthew, however, continued, "C-can I use your r-red crayon?" He asked nervously, pointing with shaky fingers toward the lone crayon. He didn't want to start another fight. The day had been so peaceful.

"I don't want your fag germs on my crayons." The boy spat, earning him a few snickers from his classmates. Matthew's face fell and he bit his lip wondering what he should do. Alfred, though, had stopped working. He hated it when the other students treated them like that and he was sick of it. Absolutely sick of it. He was going to be his twin's hero.

"No." He said, anger slowly coursing through his small frame. "No. You're not using the crayon so let him use it. He'll give it right back." He stated defiantly, ignoring the nudges from his brother telling him it was okay. The other boy raised a brow at him.

"So? I'm gonna use it and I don't want to be infected by your gay germs."

Alfred gritted his teeth, "We don't have gay germs! My brother just wants to use your stupid crayon. Let him use it!" He defended, trying to calm himself before a fight evolved. The teacher wouldn't help him if one did break out and he was dangerously outnumbered. But he couldn't back down., now He just couldn't.

"Yeah, you do. You have two dads who are the devils pawns, and so you've been infected by them. That's what my dad says." The boy argued, standing up in order to intimidate him. Alfred stood up too, absolutely fuming. The boy was an inch taller than him but he held his ground.

"Then your dad's stupid! My dads aren't the 'devils whatevers' or anything!" He yelled back. The other boy shoved him, forcing him back.

"My dad's not stupid! You're just jealous because you have faggot parents!" He shouted.

Alfred shoved him right back in retaliation and soon the two were fighting each other angrily, kicking and screaming, punching and biting. Unfortunately, the other boys soon decided to join in and none of them were on Alfred's side. Well, other than Matthew who had quickly jumped in to aid his twin. The two brothers were horribly outnumbered and the fight soon became a game of "Who Could Kick the Bonnefoys the Hardest?"

To make the situation worse, the teacher simply ignored the scene happening in one corner of her classroom, flipping through her magazine idly. Alfred could have sworn he heard her mutter 'they deserve it'. He wanted to curl up and disappear and never have to deal with any of this every again. But he was more focused with trying to shield his face from the all the legs kicking at his bruising body to keep dwelling on the thought.

Salvation finally came in the form of the dismissal bell as the children abandoned their victims and quickly ran out of the classroom. Alfred sat up weakly with a moan of pain and Matthew followed close to tears. The elder twin quickly wrapped his brother in a comforting hug as the younger sobbed into their clothes. He didn't know how hurt his twin was, but he knew his own lip was bleeding down his chin. Alfred only wanted to stay on that floor with his younger brother forever and never deal with anything ever again. Unfortunately, they were forced to leave when the teacher yelled at them to get out.

Weakly, the pair helped each other up and limped toward the cubbie, grabbing their bags quickly. With difficulty they made it outside, just to see their bus depart without them. Matthew sat down on the steps in defeat, face in his hands as he shook in despair. He just wanted to go home and end this nightmare, but how were they going to return home without a ride?

"D-dont worry Mattie, I'll go ask them to call Dad." Alfred assured and limped as quickly as he could back into the building. He made his way toward the office and waited as the woman at the desk finished her phone call. She hung up and glared at him.

"What do you want, Bonnefoy?" She snapped and Alfred winced, wiping at his watery eyes and bloody lip.

"C-can y-you please call my Dad? We missed our b-bus.." He asked pathetically. The woman continued to glare at him as the phone rang once more.

"Whose fault is that? Look, I'm very busy. You and your sinful brother can just walk home." She spat picking up the phone and answering it sweetly. Alfred felt doom descending upon him. No. No, this couldn't be happening. They needed to be picked up!

"P-please! We d-dont know how to w-walk ho-" He was shushed as she continued listening to the phone call. She glared at him and mouthed a 'get out' while pointing to the door. Defeated, he stumbled out onto the front steps finding his brother where he had left him. Matthew looked up at him expectantly but Alfred only stared at the floor.

"They w-wont call" He hissed, feeling the tears fall down his face again. "They want us to walk." Matthew hugged him close as they sat dejectedly on the cold steps of their school. Everything just kept getting worse and worse.

"Let's wait here. Dad and Papa will come get us when they see were n-not home." The younger reasoned and Alfred nodded. They'd just have to wait it out.  
Not even a half hour later they were being threatened once more and were forced to leave the steps. Hand in hand, eyes on the ground they limped and stumbled down the cold streets in no direction in particular. They had no idea where home was and it hurt to move. Alfred didn't know what else he could do.  
To add insult to injury it began to rain and the two were soon soaked and miserable. Finally, exhaustion overwhelmed them and they sat down in a sheltered alleyway, huddled close together. Matthew fell asleep but Alfred stayed alert, watching people pass by with umbrellas oblivious to their plight. He wanted his Dad and Papa.

* * *

Arthur and Francis were extremely worried. They had come home to an empty house. Usually, Arthur arrived home ten minutes after the twin's did but he had run late and ended up being a half hour. Francis had gotten off work earlier and had come home moments before Arthur. The pair looked around the house, calling the twins' names but still received no answer. Arthur quickly dialed the number of the school only to be told to burn in hell. Furious, he dialed again and was hung up on.

The two jumped into their car in order to drive to the school, it was almost a half hour away and the traffic certainly didn't help. When they reached the school building it was beginning to drizzle. Arthur quickly ran inside, demanding to know where his children were. Finally, after much arguing, the woman at the desk revealed that they had missed the bus and had decided to walk home. Arthur gritted his teeth, he wanted to beat the woman to a pulp but he needed to find his boys first.

He ran back outside to find the weather worsening. He grabbed an umbrella from the car and relaid Francis the new found information. The pair agreed that the Frenchman would drive around to look for the twins while the Englishman searched the area on foot. They couldn't have gone far...right?

Arthur searched the city desperately, calling out his sons' names as the rain hammered down on him. People bumped into him on the streets, some told him to shut up. Those who recognized him sent him disgusted looks; he ignored them all. He needed to find his boys. He need to make sure they were ok. He continued along determinedly, yelling the two names into the increasing darkness. He had almost given up, ready to turn around and try another direction when he heard a faint 'Dad?'.

"Alfred! Matthew!" He called again with renewed vigor and again he heard the weak cry. He looked around wildly until he spotted the ragged looking boy peeking from an alleyway. He rushed toward him, enveloping him in a hug. He dropped he umbrella but he couldn't care less. Matthew was beside his brother and he embraced them both tightly, whispering comforting words as they sobbed into his shoulder. Arthur pulled back reluctantly, anger surging inside him at the state of his precious little boys. He took a deep breath, pulling out his cell phone in order to tell his husband he'd found their sons and to tell him where to pick them up.

"D-dad. Can we please go h-home? I want to go h-home" Alfred pleaded desperately, Matthew nodded in agreement beside him. They were clinging his legs, never wanting to let go. Arthur hung up, pocketing the device before crouching down.

"Don't worry. Everything's fine now. Papa's coming to get us and we'll go home and have some hot chocolate and get you two clean and warm." Arthur soothed, running his fingers through each boys soaking hair. If only the ordeal had ended there.

"Well if it isn't the gayest faggot this town has had the displeasure to meet." A voice sneered from the entrance of the alley. The British man tensed and stood up, turning around to face the owner of the voice. There were three of them in actuality; Arthur recognized them as his neighbors. The scent of alcohol flooded the air. The Brit could sense things were going to only get worse.

"Boys, stay behind me." Arthur ordered, standing in front of them protectively as he glared at the men.

"What's this? You after little boys too, now?" One of them accused, pointing a grimy finger at the twins huddled at his feet. Arthur looked at them with pure disgust.

"How dare you! I would never touch them!" He defended angrily, God was he sick of dealing with this shit. He never wanted to deal with it again. And he especially didn't want his children dragged into this Hell.

"Yeah, but that doesn't stop you from fucking that faggot of a Frenchman." Another pointed out and Arthur was boiling. Absolutely boiling at this point. He was done. He was done suffering.

"I swear if you make fun of my husband again I will make you bloody pay." The British man threatened coldly though he was only met with laughter. He grit his teeth. He clenched his fists.

"Your husband's a sinful piece of shit who deserves to rot in hell along with you!" One man egged on and Arthur lost it. He was tired of being treated this way, to hell with being a gentlemen. He reverted to his teenage years filled with rebellious fistfights and punched the first man square in the jaw. The victim stumbled backward, holding his jaw in shock. The Brit wasted no time in moving forward to punch the next man until the third one kicked him in the shin making him slip to the ground. He stood up quickly and glared at the man, kicking him straight in the groin. The other two had recovered by then and were throwing their own punches. He dodged many but a few landed on him with quite lot of force. A harsh one hitting him in the gut made him double over.

"Dad!" Came an alarmed cry and Arthur whirled around to see the two boys huddled there, watching with wide frightened eyes. He had forgotten they were there. In the moment of distraction he was punched in the gut again and his arms were grabbed tightly. He thrashed angrily in the strong grip glaring at the first man who was holding a dirty shard of glass. He could his bloodshot eyes and his swaying steps proved that he indeed was intoxicated.

"Maybe you need to be reminded of the sin you are." The weapon wielding on snapped, wiping at his bloody nose, "I bet your dear 'husband' wont find you very attracted with Fag carved into your back?" He continued to sneer. Arthur's eyes widened as he thrashed with renewed vigor. They wouldn't! Shit, they would. He wouldn't put it past these assholes.

"Stop it!" He yelled angrily as his shirt was lifted, feeling the piece of glass stab into his skin. He clenched his teeth as they carved a straight line before pulling the shard out. The Brit could feel the blood flowing from the new wound and he yelled again much more desperately for them to stop.

The men ignored him and were about to carve the other two lines that make up the letter 'F" when a light illuminated them suddenly. An angry loud car horn sounded and they dropped the bleeding Englishman before running off. Arthur sat up weakly, clutching his side. He could hear French curses streaming into the air as the culprits escaped. Francis was soon by his side looking at him with fear, anxiety and concern swimming in his blue eyes. He had never seen him so terrified than at that moment. The Brit let his husband help him up and the both of them got the boys safely into the car. Soon they were driving down the road.

At first there was only silence, Arthur clutching the wound on his side, wrapped in Francis scarf. The Frenchman gripped the steering wheel tightly, his other hand holding Arthur's just as desperately. He'd grabbed it and hadn't let go since they got in the car. Arthur made no move to stop him, either. Alfred was the one to break the silence, like usual.

"D-dad. P-please don't make us go back to that school. Please. I don't want to go. It's horrible there and I don't want to go. Please don't make us go!" Alfred begged, new tears flooding his eyes. Arthur could feel the anger boiling within him that he wanted to unleash on that damn school. How dare they hurt his precious twin boys.

"Don't worry Alfred. You'll never see that bloody school again." He spat. Francis looked over at him. Though he did agree that there was no way they could let their children go back to that hell hole after all this. Still, what alternative did they have? The twins relaxed visibly at the news, a weight lifting from their tiny shoulders and they slumped down. Exhausted from the horrid day, they found themselves slipping into a restful sleep.

"Arthur, what are we going to do?" Francis asked quietly, now that the twins were asleep.

"I don't know." Arthur sighed, scowling out the window as his husband drove.

"The house will not be finished for another week or two."

"I know. But I don't want them in our damn house here. It's not safe. Nothings safe here anymore. I can't live like this, even for just another 14 days. I can't." Arthur stated, tightening his grip on his husband's hand. Francis frowned and looked at the road as he thought.

"We could stay in a hotel for the next two weeks... One near our new neighborhood..." Francis said, trailing off as he continued to think about the new prospect.

"Can we afford that?" Arthur asked, frankly anything was better then where they lived now. He had the bruises to prove it.

"I think so... As long as its not too expensive." Francis mused, glancing over to see his husband smirking. He hadn't seen that smirk in a long time. He had missed it.

"Then lets do it. We'll stop by the house, pick up some stuff and go!" Arthur exclaimed with renewed life glimmering in his emerald eyes.

"D'accord." Francis agreed with a small smile.

* * *

"So we stayed in a hotel for a while before moving into the new house. And everything was ok after th-that." Alfred finished, unsteadily. "We did go to the hospital for Dad though, even though he insisted he was fine." He was tense and angry at himself for getting so emotional again. He'd done enough of that already.

"I was such an idiot" He hissed. "I could have done something. I could have made the woman call Dad. I could have made sure we didn't wander far from the school. I could have helped Dad against those assholes! But I didn't! Fuck! Now I'm crying" He cursed, wiping at his red eyes angrily.

Ivan kissed him, silencing his protests easily. "You are not at fault." He assured, kissing him again. "It is over. Now kiss me."

And Alfred decided not to argue with that.

* * *

I hate this chapter. I just...I just hate it. Orz

At least its long...Unlike the past few chapters...

Hopefully, you guys will like it! Anyways, we're getting into the last legs of the story. And by that I mean like 10 more chapters... I think. And get ready for a curve ball soon.

Anyways, next chapter includes smexy times~

And, I watched HetaOni recently...Is it normal to get so emotional over it? /orz

Review my darlings! Review!

Ihgdfihglfhgihg 950+. Holy shit.


	41. Chapter 40

"Arthur! We haven't gone on a date night in so long!" Francis whined, tugging at the Brit's hand. The Englishman grimaced trying to free said hand. His husband could be so annoying.

"That means leaving them alone!" He argued, motioning his head to the teenage couple watching a movie on the couch.

"Arthur, mon dieu will you not just let them be? They're fine! Ivan is perfectly safe!" Francis sighed, it was so very irritating. Alfred had been dating for months now! His leg had basically healed in the meantime, that's how long! Well, he still had to wear a black cloth brace just in case but still. They truly cared for each other and Arthur should just let them be. The children should be allowed their fun, and he should too. But of course, he had to marry an argumentative prude.

"But..F-Fine. We'll go out." Arthur glowered, turning away. He supposed he didn't really have anything to fear. They had been dating for a long while and nothing had happened...Perhaps Ivan was just an odd child, and in fact no danger to his baby. He chewed at his lip.

"Finally! We shall go out on a nice dinner, we'll walk through the gardens and kiss in the moonlight. Oh, how romantic." The Frenchman prattled on trying to get his lover to spin in the moment. Of course, he refused him, staying stubbornly in place.

Arthur snorted, dragging his husband back upstairs so they could change into some nicer clothes. Giving one last glance toward his son and his boyfriend. Nothing would happen. He'd feel better if Matthew was also here, but the boy was over at the Beilschmidt's for the night. He didn't like that very much either. But, at least he knew that Gilbert would never hurt his little Matthew.

He could never say the same with the Russian.

He wished he could just kick the boy out, but he had promised Toris he could stay. The nervous man had left yesterday for Europe, and it wouldn't be good to make the teen leave only a day into his stay. He'd just have to watch them closely.

"Arthur?" Francis' voice brought him back from his thoughts. He looked up to see him wearing a new button down shirt, the tie around his neck hanging there.

"What?" The Englishman snapped, ignoring how his cheeks felt hotter. He decided to cover it up with annoyance. "Can't you tie a simple tie correctly? Stupid frog." He muttered, taking the two ends and tying them with jerky movements, perhaps a smidge too tight.

Francis blinked his blue eyes before letting out a light laugh at his lover's antics. The Brit tightened it further, and Francis let out a slight choking noise. He placed his hand on his husband's, stopping him while using his other to loosen the garment.

"Do not be like that." He scolded playfully, kissing him chastely, "You must dress too you know? Or do you wish me to do it for you?" He smirked suggestively, enjoying how the others face flamed up. Much to his disappointment, the Brit turned around.

"I can do it myself!"

Francis let out a sigh but did not press the issue. He didn't want Arthur angry before they even left the house. So, he waited patiently as the other dressed, sneaking glances of course. He couldn't help it; Arthur was quite deliciously handsome. Finally, once he'd finished they descended down the stairs toward the family room where Alfred was.

The American whined when his father stood in front of him, blocking his view of the movie. How rude! His dad gave him the look, the one that meant he better stop else, and he quickly grappled for the remote to pause the film.

"We're going out tonight. Behave yourselves." Arthur informed sternly.

"Shouldn't I be telling you guys to behave yourselves?" Alfred retorted, only succeeding in intensifying the glare. He quieted, he didn't want to fight. They'd continued to try to act their best but it was still hard. There were days he wanted to scream at his father and shut himself up in his room. Nevertheless, he tried his best not to and for his part, his father hadn't yelled as often.

"Alfred." The elder man warned.

"Yes. Yes. I know. We'll be real good, I promise!" The young teen gave him grin, hoping he would leave so they could finish the movie. It was almost done! And then they'd watch one more, Ivan's choice.

Arthur snorted, but finally allowed his husband to tug him out of the room and out the door. He better behave himself.

* * *

"Gillie!" Feliciano called up the stairs after having opened the door, "Mattie is here!"

Gilbert sat up in his bed at the sound, snapping his phone shut. The phone he had been staring at for a long time. He stuffed the piece of paper in his other hand under his pillow quickly before standing up. Just in time too, because not a second later his cute boyfriend opened the door.

"Hey Gil." Matthew greeted, letting out a light laugh when he was almost knocked down by the sudden hug he was encompassed in.

"I missed you Matt!" Gilbert grinned, kissing him chastely before pulling away.

"Missed me? I saw you yesterday at school." Matthew insisted. It was only Saturday and he'd be staying over night. The albino was so spoiled. He had the urge to pinch his cheeks but refrained.

"'Course I missed you! And I know you're trying to be strong and act like you didn't miss my awesome self. It's ok though. I understand. I mean, who could not miss this awesomeness?"

Matthew rolled his eyes, trying to hide the small smile that shown on his face. "So when's dinner?"

"Soonish." The Prussian answered with a shrug. Hopefully, at least because he was starving. Worrying always made him hungry.

"Should I ask what we're having?" The younger twin asked, already know the answer.

"Feli is cooking." Gilbert informed, helpfully. Matthew tried not to laugh, giving a small nod. So pasta it was.

* * *

"Ivan! You did this on purpose!" Alfred accused, lifting his head slightly from where it was hiding in the others broader chest. Ivan let out a giggle, holding his boyfriend closer to him.

"Perhaps." He responded, glancing onto the screen where the possessed man was hacking a girl to bits. Every scream she made had Alfred trembling in fright even though he wasn't watching the film anymore.

"Damn it, Ivan!" He muttered, closing his eyes tightly and hoping the movie ended soon. Never. Ever. Let Ivan choose the next movie. The asshole would just use it against him.

"Oh Alfred, it is just a movie." He knew it was cruel but he loved it when Alfred was so clingy and desperate. It was just so adorable. And he was oh so warm against him.

The American sent him a glare, though his pouty lips lessened the effect. In fact, all Ivan could do was kiss them. Alfred debated on fighting but decided kissing was a wonderful distraction from the screams in the background. Soon, Ivan slipped in his tongue and before Alfred could even realize he was on his back on the couch with his shirt being stripped off. No, it was completely off, thrown to the ground carelessly so the gloved hands could return to touch him.

"H-hey!" Alfred protested, making the taller pause and give him a quizzical look. "This isn't comfortable. Let's go to my room." He continued, letting a smirk dance upon his face. Ivan blinked before smirking himself, quickly getting up.

"Wait! Carry me. I'm tired." The American ordered, holding out his hands with his best puppy dog expression. Ivan rolled his eyes, lifting him up with little protest.

"You are lazy." He corrected, taking him up the steps as Alfred attacked his neck. Which was in itself quite distracting. Why was Alfred's bedroom so far away? He took in a sharp breath when Alfred bit him. Not enough to draw blood, though. It was an unspoken rule between them. No blood. Never any blood, lest he lose himself.

Finally, they stumbled into the American's bedroom and Ivan dropped his charge onto the bed with little ceremony. Alfred grumbled, giving him a pout.

"If you had not been lazy, I would have been gentler." Ivan shrugged, crawling onto the bed as well. Alfred rolled his eyes, choosing not to press the issue and instead tugged at his boyfriend's shirt. His was already off so it wasn't fair. Ivan pulled his hands away, ignoring the annoyed whine. Instead, he unwrapped his scarf gently, folding it carefully and setting it aside. He didn't want it dirtied.

He returned to the whiner, kissing him to make him stop complaining. He let the other disrobe him of his shirt, using his own hands to run down Alfred's bare chest. He delighted in every shiver he incited, every slight tremble and hitch in breath.

He broke the kiss, making his way down the others chest until he reached his pants. He stripped them off hurriedly, looking for the prize beneath. He paused though, before he could get too carried away, looking up at his boyfriend with a silent question of, "How far do you wish to go?"

Alfred pulled him up, kissing him deeply while holding his face in his hands, "All the way, Ivan." Ivan blinked, eyes widening and before he could even ask, "Are you sure?" Alfred had silence his words with his lips. Pulling away and with a grin he assured, "Damn straight I'm sure."

* * *

"...Francis why were you so adamant about having a date night tonight?" Arthur asked suddenly, after the waiter had left with their orders. "It's not our anniversary, it's not Valentines day, it's neither of our birthdays..."

"Must I need an excuse to take my husband out?" The Frenchman pouted in response, only receiving a roll of the eyes.

"You're up to something...I know it." Arthur snapped, drinking some of his wine. And if it was Francis it meant that it had something to do with sex...Perhaps if he got drunk enough he wouldn't have—No. He needed his wits about him to have a better chance at fighting of the wino.

"So distrusting, and after 16 odd years. You are so cruel to me.." Francis sighed sadly, though the playful smirk teasing at his lips ruined the pitying air about him.

"Belt up and tell me what you're doing." The Brit demanded, quietly of course. He didn't want to cause a scene.

"Nothing! I simply wanted to have dinner with you." He replied innocently, perking up when the food was brought in. Nevertheless, Arthur kept his legs tightly closed. He still remembered that awful date where Francis had molested him the entire time in public under the table only to leave him hanging the rest of the night. He could be such a conniving bastard of a frog. He was definitely plotting something.

They ate their meal, Francis doing most of the talking and Arthur arguing every now and then. Nothing serious, just the typical bickering that characterized their entire relationship.

They paid and left, walking down the warm streets hand in hand.. It was getting late and Arthur was beginning to worry about Alfred being home alone with the Russian. "We'll go home in a minute! We're almost at our car, but first I want to check something at the bakery..." Francis assured, speeding his steps slightly as said bakery came into view.

"Why? It's closed. Can't it wait until morning?" Arthur asked, though it wouldn't really be a problem. They had parked just in front of it. He supposed they could step in for a moment.

"I think I may have left my wallet in there..." Francis continued, unlocking the door with his key and stepping inside.

Arthur let out a sigh, walking in beside him, "Always so forgetful. Alright, turn on the lights. It's probably on the counter anyway." He heard the door click shut and froze. Wait a minute. Francis had paid for dinner. Had used the money in his wallet to do so. He had his wallet. He couldn't have left it here—.

"Oh hon hon hon. Mon amour, you fell for that?" Francis chuckled by his ear, suddenly pulling his arms behind him and snapping them shut with handcuffs.

"Francis! Fuck, I knew it! Unhand me this instant! And let me go!" Arthur shouted, tugging at his new found restraints. Why had he let his guard down? How could he have been so stupid?

"Calm down." Francis soothed, nibbling at his ear as his hands slid down to grope the Englishman's ass. He loved the hitch in breath it got him. "I have worked so hard on this! I do hope you enjoy."

"F-Francis! I am _not _in the mood! Take me home now!" Arthur continued undeterred, thrashing about.

"I will take you Arthur..."The Frenchman grinned nudging the Brit forward. "Now come along, the surprise is downstairs. In the basement."

* * *

"Hey Matt, let's watch a movie." Gilbert said suddenly, as they walked back up to his room. Dinner had been delicious, of course. Feliciano really was amazing with pasta. Each time was a whole new flavorful experience. Matthew had no idea how he did it.

"Sure. Go find a movie, I'll set up your T.V." Matthew agreed, continuing to his boyfriend's room while Gilbert ran back downstairs to search for some films. The younger twin entered the slightly messy room and turned the T.V. on. Gilbert didn't have a DVD player, but he did have a PlayStation. With practiced ease, the blond set up the gaming system.

Now he had to wait. He plopped down onto the bed, trying to get comfortable. He rearranged the covers and the pillows—.

He paused, picking up a torn piece of paper. Hastily written upon it was a ten digit numbers. A phone number. But whose? Could it be...

"I wasn't sure which awesome movie you wanted to see so I brought five up to choo—What are you doing?" Gilbert walked in casually, looking up only to freeze. He dropped the movies, rushing up onto the bed to snatch the paper back.

"Gil whose number is that?" Matthew questioned, trying to get to the paper again.  
"No ones!" The Prussian snapped, making sure to keep the scrap out of reach.

"It's her's isn't it!" Gilbert turned away, not denying the statement. Matthew grit his teeth, turning the albino around with difficulty. "Did you call her!"  
"No! Not yet!" He replied, crossing his arms and looking away.

"You can't call her, Gil!" The younger twin insisted, attempting to get his lover to look him in the eye.

"And why the hell not!" Gilbert shouted back, turning to look at him fiercely.

"You're only going to get hurt!"

"I need to know! I want to know if she remembers me, if she ever thought of me..."

"And what if she didn't?" Matthew pleaded. This would only end in heartbreak. He knew it.

"I need to know, Matt!"

"And what if she does want to come back into your life?"

"What's wrong with that!"

"What about Feli!"

Gilbert went dead silent. He hadn't even thought of Feli, or his father for that matter. How they would feel about this. If she came back...would Feliciano feel unwanted? He didn't want that. He loved Feli; he was so close to him, sometimes it felt he was closer to him than his actual father. He didn't know what to do anymore.

* * *

"Woah! Hold up!" Alfred stopped, pushing Ivan away from him. The elder teen blinked, turning the bottle of lube right side up again. He had been about to pour its contents on his fingers to begin the preparation when he had been stopped.

"Who said you were topping?" The American snapped, snatching the bottle from the other. Ivan tilted his head, before erupting into a fit of giggles. It only made the American's pout deepen.

"You are so cute Alfred! Of course I am topping, now give me the lube." He replied cheerily, trying to quiet his giggles. Alfred glared at him but Ivan paid him no heed. That is, until Alfred gripped his shoulders, flipping them over so that now Alfred hovered on top of the Russian.

"I can top! And I will top!" Alfred growled, even though the blush on his face ruined the threat he was trying to go for. Ivan stopped giggling when their positions flipped, looking up into the narrowed blue eyes.

"The joke was funny at first, little American. I shall top tonight." He flipped them back again, moaning slightly when their cocks brushed against each other. They were both naked by this point. And if he hadn't been interrupted, he could have already been sheathed into that tight heat.

"And why is that?" Alfred spat, resisting the urge to buck up into that sinfully teasing touch. He would lose it, and lose the argument.

"I am bigger."

Alfred's blushed even more, biting his lip. So what if the Russian was bigger! He wasn't small! The Russia was just huge and stupid and this wasn't fair! In fact, he said just that, "That's not fair!"

"Oh do stop whining." Ivan sighed, kissing him chastely. "If I let you be on top, you will stop complaining, da?"

Alfred blinked his teary blue eyes, "Yes!" He agreed, nodding his head vigorously. He heard another sigh before they were flipped once more, regaining his perch above the Russian.

"Happy? You are on top. Now let me prepare you." Ivan motioned for the lube bottle in Alfred's hands. The American stared at him, confused.

"But I'm topping! You said so yourself." He mumbled, tilting his head. Ivan took the lube bottle back the grip around it had gone slack from confusion.

He sat up slightly, "Nyet, I said you could be on top. But I will be doing the topping. Compromises are fun, da?" Ivan smiled up at the flabbergasted American. Alfred opened his mouth to protest but Ivan silenced him with a finger. "Ah, Alfred but you already agreed. So, this will be the arrangement."

"You suck." The American frowned, biting the finger lightly to voice out his dislike over the 'arrangement', "But I top next time, right?"

"We shall see." Was Ivan's only answer as he slipped his hand down Alfred's back, prodding his freshly lubed fingers at the boy's entrance. The blond didn't like that answer one bit, but all his arguments failed him once one of those large fingers slipped in.

"Fuck. Ivan." Alfred groaned, wrapping his arms around the others neck. Ivan smirked as he worked his fingers, slipping in a second one. He loved the noise Alfred was making, and the position was wonderful because Alfred's mouth was so close to his ear. He didn't miss any of the delicious sounds. Whenever the teen attempted to muffle himself in his shoulder, Ivan would prod him none to gently, making the American straighten up and keen.

"I-Ivan." Alfred hissed, pulling away so he could look at the others concentrated face. "I'm-ah-ready! Just do it already!"

Ivan pouted, "It is our first time...You are not making this romantic."

Alfred reddened further, breathing heavily as those three sinful fingers continued to thrust into him. "Ngh, wh-what do you want me to say when I've got three-ah-fingers up my ass-Ah! Ivan!" He cried out, clinging tightly onto the others shoulder and grinding onto those fingers. How dare he assault his prostrate while he was speaking? It wasn't fair! None of this was fair! Damn the Russian.

Ivan turned the blond's head with his other hand, locking lips with his boyfriend in apology. His other hand worked to spread the American further because, well, he _was_ big.

"Ivan." Alfred breathed, pulling from the kiss, "Please, I need you." He tried, staring up at the pale teen with eyes at half mast and lips parted to allow heavy breathing. His face was flushed and he looked absolutely delicious.

"Da."

* * *

"Francis! What the hell did you do to the basement!" Arthur squawked as a light illuminated the small room. There was a cold steel table at the center of a room, a cupboard filled with god-knows-what, a sink and counter, and a mirror. On one wall, taped up in a collage were all the pictures the Frenchman had taken of him over the past decade or so. This was unacceptable. This was the bakery people frequented! Sure it was only one part of the basement but still!

"Arthur. We haven't done anything _fun_ in a while because the children complain of the noise." Francis began, pushing the trapped man toward the table. "So, I renovated the small storage room here! I decided to go with creepy stalker motif." He continued motioning toward the wall of pictures.

"You took me out to dinner to trick me into role playing with you?" Arthur asked incredulously, turning around to face his mad lover. If he had just asked like a normal person he would have said yes. Well, it would have depend on his mood actually, "We've role played before, why didn't you approach it like before!"

"Atmosphere cher. Now, remember the safety word is scones." The longer haired blond prattled on cheerily, going over to the cupboard to dig through for a few things. Ooh, this was going to be so much fun. He could not wait to have his Englishman writhing on the table...

"I never said I would agree to any of this!" The Brit retorted, turning himself around to face the Frenchman again. He would have wrung his neck already if he could. Stupid handcuffs.

"Get on the table." Francis ordered, coldly. Arthur stiffened, before realizing Francis had already slipped into his character. He swallowed a lump in his throat. Ok, so Francis was acting as a stalker who'd kidnapped him into this...this place. How should he act? Probably scared.

"I said. Get on the table!"

Arthur jumped, managing to lift a leg onto the table top and haul himself up. He watched nervously as Francis came toward him, a smile on his face.

"How are you, darling?" He asked sweetly, cupping his face. Arthur pulled away.

"G-Get away! Let me go!"

Francis frowned, reaching up and taking a hold of his blond hair non to gently. He pulled him down, smiling as Arthur hissed in pain, "But darling...I've been wanting you for so very long. We haven't even started to play!" Arthur shivered, he could already feel himself beginning to get hard. He suppose this surprise wasn't that bad...

* * *

"You should talk to your dad and Feli before you do anything, Gil." Matthew continued, softer and more compassionate then before. They were sitting side by side now and the pair had calmed down.

"West doesn't want to talk about it." Gilbert muttered, "He's so unawesome. _Everything's_ been unawesome lately. I want to know if she even gives a shit about me. If she regrets not killing me."

"Gil! Don't say things like that!" Matthew snapped desperately, hugging his boyfriend tightly. He didn't know what he would do if Gilbert died or didn't exist. He loved him so much. He hated it when he was like this, he wanted carefree Gilbert.

"D-Do you remember Gilbird?" The Prussian said quietly, looking down.

"Your little yellow chick? Of course!" Matthew placed a head on his shoulder waiting for the other to continue.

"You know what happened to it?" The albino spoke softly, never lifting his gaze from the bed.

"Didn't it just fly away?"

"No... I made it leave."

"What? But you loved Gilbird." Matthew protested, lifting his head up to look try and peer into those red eyes. He wanted to know what he was thinking, what was going through his mind. Only so he could find a way to help.

"Yeah, well. Apparently, she loved little chicks too. And when I found out, I got so angry. I-I yelled at him, I pushed him away and I stopped giving him food until he finally flew away."

"Gil.."  
"I miss that fucking bird every day. I can't believe I did that. I...It was her. It's always fucking her. And..and if she just thought of me once in her damn life it make me feel better. I..I'm not making sense. Just—Fuck. This is so not awesome."

"Gil. Gil I love you. Feli loves you. Your dad loves you. Hell my family loves you in their own way. Don't let her ruin what you have, because you have so much, Gil." Matthew pleaded. He wanted him to smile. He wanted him to be happy.

"And what the fuck do I have?" Gilbert muttered, finally looking over at his boyfriend.

"You have me. All of me."

* * *

"Oh God Ivan!" Alfred screamed, kissing the other violently as he rode him. Ivan was just so-God he didn't even know how to explain. It was just, amazing. How it felt to have him inside him, the feeling of his hand on his cock, the way his tongue battled his own; all of it was just amazing.

He'd heard enough about sex from his Papa to be acknowledged as an expert on the subject. But this, he'd never imagined it to be like this. Sure, he'd experimented a few times just to see but never with an actual person. And Ivan was ten times better than anything else he'd tried. Hands down.

"Alfred." Ivan murmured against those lips, gripping his hips tighter. Oh this was much better than he had ever thought. Alfred was so very warm around him. It was wonderful.

"I-Ivan, I-I" Alfred groaned, hugging him tighter.

"Yes?" Ivan probed, slowing down his thrusts to allow Alfred to speak.

"I-I love you..." The American mumbled, shifting on the others lap in an effort to get him to move again. But, Ivan had stopped completely, only holding him tightly to his chest. "Ivan." The teen whined, wanting him to thrust into him again. He was so fucking close and it wasn't like he had never said those words before. He'd confessed before.

Suddenly he was flipped again, landing on his back with a yelp. He looked up at Ivan who was smirking so giddily. "I love you too, my little American." He whispered, causing his 'little American' to stick out his tongue in childish protest. He wasn't little!

Ivan only chuckled, capturing those lips once more. Only months ago had Alfred fought back vehemently, and now, he kissed back just as eagerly. He had wished for the day they would consummate their relationship and it had finally come. And it was better than anything he could have hoped.

The Russian resumed his thrusts, preferring this position due to his newfound ability to watch his lover's face contort in pleasure. It was one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen and all he wanted was to swallow up every moan and keen with his greedy lips.

Alfred came first with a shout (he never could be quiet) clinging to the broader teen desperately. A few more thrusts and Ivan finished as well, trying his best not to collapse onto the other. Alfred hugged him close, wanting to cuddle like always. Ivan happily obliged, curling around his lover and basking in his lovely warmth. Soon they were drifting off into peaceful nightmare free sleep.

Ivan could certainly get used to this.

* * *

Arthur groaned, fumbling with the door as Francis continued kissing down his neck. Did the Frenchman ever get tired? They'd gone enough rounds at the bakery! He wouldn't be able to walk for weeks if this continued. It was a marvel he could even do so now.

"F-Francis let's get inside first!" He snapped, elbowing the man away so that he could finally manage to get the door open. The pair staggered inside, breathing a sigh of relief when they they figured the teens must have gone to bed already. Arthur thought he was in the clear to finally go to bed when he was again attacked by the frog.

"One more Arthur. Just one more." Francis murmured against his ear, running his fingers along his body. Arthur really had no choice but to go along with him, kissing the man again as they stumbled along the room. Shouldn't they be going upstairs?

Arthur let out a surprised yelp when his foot slipped on something that certainly wasn't hardwood. Luckily, Francis held him upright, never slowing in his kiss. The Brit pulled away, glaring at his husband before bending down (careful not to show his arse to the Frenchman because then it would be all over again) to pick up the offending item. It was a shirt. It was Alfred's shirt. The shirt he'd been wearing. Thrown carelessly on the ground as if—

"I'm going to kill him." The Englishman seethed, pushing Francis away to stomp up the stairs.

"Arthur! Arthur be reasonable!" The Frenchman called back, realizing what his lover had meant. He hurried after him, hoping he could stop things before it all blew up.

* * *

Dun dun dunnnn

Sorry, X)

Anyways~ I fail at smexy scenes so I apologize for all that crap you had to suffer reading this. Orz

Next chapter, well...Let's just say the shit sort of hits the fan...

And Alfred does something quite drastic~

Perhaps I've said too much.

I hope everyone had a happy Canada Day (if you remembered) and have an awesome 4th of July! And for those who don't celebrate the 4th of July...Well, you should anyway. Blow some shit up and eat some hot dogs/burgers on the grill :D

Alright, review my lovelies HOLY SHIT WE ARE ALMOST THERE /hyperventilates and dies

See you next week~


	42. Chapter 41

Arthur stormed up the stairs, his husband following him closely. Francis was rattling on about how he should be calm, how they had been doing the same thing, how they had been dating for months and it was bound to happen but Arthur refused to listen to him. Alfred was still young and naïve. He didn't know what love was, he wasn't ready for this. Arthur was only doing what was best for his son, and if that meant scolding him then so be it.

He flung the bedroom door open when he finally reached it, slamming it open against the wall. In the back of his mind he reminded himself that they did have neighbors. It was late in the night, past midnight and he really shouldn't be making so much noise. But, at the moment, he was too angry at the sight of the two lying asleep together in his son's bed.

Well, they had been sleeping but at the sudden noise Ivan had woken up in a start. He sat up, blinking his eyes at the two men in confusion. What was going on? He nudged at his still sleeping lover who groaned and rolled over.

Arthur would have none of that; he started to shout which finally got Alfred to wake up. It was utter chaos in seconds. Arthur grabbed at his son's arm, trying to pull him out of the bed. Alfred clung to the sheets trying to pull away from his father. Francis held his husband's arm trying to get him to calm down. All the while, the two short haired blonds were lashing out at each other verbally. The air filled with their angry shouts, making the room almost unbearable.

Ivan, for his part, grappled for his boxers and scarf. Slipping them on quickly in the moments when he was ignored by the battling family. He pulled on his pants as well, finding Alfred's boxers nearby. He threw them toward Alfred mercifully, though at the cost of reminding the rest of the family of his presence in the room. Alfred gave him a grateful look, putting on the garment hastily while Arthur turned to lash out at him.

Ivan didn't say much back, he was trying to stay calm. He barely listened, he just focused on staying calm. He was tired, he wasn't thinking straight. Alfred's horrible father was yelling. He hated that because it hurt Alfred when he did so. He wished he could shut him up. Especially now, now that he and Alfred were one. They were closer than ever and the Brit was threatening that. He could solve the problem easily by snapping his ne—no, he needed to calm down. Though, it was getting increasingly harder with all the noise.

He had been focusing so much on keeping his sanity that he hadn't even realized that they were being herded down the steps. Alfred and Arthur were still screaming at each other, and Francis was failing miserably at keeping either of them calm.

Perhaps he should actually listen to the argument in order to help his Alfred...

"I told you specifically!"

"I fucking love him! I can do what I want!"

"Don't you dare speak to me like that you brat!"

"You were fucking Papa too! I can tell! Why cant I if you can!"

"We're married! You're just a child!"

"I'm not a child! I'm an adult! I have a fucking right to do this!"

"You are an idiot if you believe that! You are a child! A naïve child!"

"I am not an idiot!"

"Then stop acting like one! Do you have any idea how stupid you've acted!"

"I am not stupid! I am not an idiot!"

And Ivan saw red. Because at that moment Alfred had started to cry.

They had reached the end of the stairs by that point and the two blonds had continued their fight right in the middle of the hallway. Francis had given up, glancing at the kitchen in a last ditch effort for distracting the pair with food.

The moment Arthur brought up idiocy Alfred's eyes began to water. He'd never retrieved his glasses from the nightstand, making the tears that much more obvious. There was no glass to shield the pain evident in his eyes. It wasn't until the last yell that the tears finally fell.

And at that point Ivan couldn't silence the voices. Everything shut down. He stopped listening, he stopped feeling. All he wanted was to get rid of the man hurting his beloved, and nothing would stop him. Nothing.

Arthur was in mid shout when he was suddenly slammed into the wall. He gasped, looking about wildly until two hands closed around his throat lifting him from the ground. His body was still forced against the wall, his air supply cut short as the hands tightened further.

The Brit thrashed wildly, desperately, clawing at the hands on his neck. He couldn't pry them off no matter how hard he tried and soon he could see spots in his vision. He chocked for breath.

At first, Alfred and Francis had been too shocked to even react. But, Francis shook it off, running forward to aid his husband. And this time, he was the only one screaming.

"Arthur! Arthur! Ivan let go! Mon Dieu arrête!" He pleaded hysterically, trying to pull the larger, stronger Russian away. His screams increased in desperation, clawing, pushing, _anything_ to get the teen to stop. He watched in horror as Arthur movements began to slow, reinvigorating his own attempts to free him.

"ALFRED! ALFRED STOP HIM!" He finally shrieked, sobbing as none of his efforts seemed to help. The outburst finally brought the teen out of his trance. His blue eyes widened and in seconds he was shouting as well.

He grabbed his boyfriend's arm, pulling him back and screamed, "Ivan! Ivan stop!" And suddenly the grip relaxed, Arthur fell to the floor and Ivan backed away quickly. Francis wasted no time to crouch down to his husband's side.

"Arthur? Arthur? Arthur, speak to me. Arthur, please. Arthur?" The Frenchman begged, gripping the Brit's hand tightly, desperately. The man beneath him had gasped for breath, breathing heavily but his eyes seemed unfocused and it scared Francis to death. He couldn't lose him, he couldn't.

Arthur continued gasping, turning his head toward Francis and giving a slight nod. Francis wanted to hug him, to kiss him and to never let him go. But that wouldn't help Arthur at the moment. He needed space to regain his breath. So, instead, Francis stood up, shakily but determined.

He turned toward the teenagers who hadn't moved. Alfred was staring at him, worried and frightened while Ivan looked shaken. The taller was staring at his hands and he seemed deathly pale. But Francis didn't give a shit.

"Get out." He whispered, staring straight at the Russian. Ivan looked up, violet eyes shaking. Francis clenched his fists, "I said get out!"

"P-papa—" Alfred spoke up but one look from those icy blue eyes silenced him. Ivan still hadn't moved, glancing between the man and his lover.

Francis was loosing his patience, "I said get out!" He screamed, grabbing the taller's arm and pulling him to the door. Unlike before, there was no resistance and Francis found it exceedingly easy to thrust him out of his house. Ivan hadn't said a word, staring at the home in shock.

"I never want to see you in this house again." Francis warned darkly, slamming the door on the others face. The Frenchman took a deep shaky breath before turning around. Alfred still hadn't moved, continuing to stand there in shock.

Francis ignored him for the moment, rushing toward his shaking husband. Arthur was still trying to calm his breathing, but his eyes were more focused. The man didn't complain when he was lifted carefully and carried to the family room to be laid down on the couch. Francis bit his lip, running his fingers along the darkening circles slowly appearing on his love's neck. He turned away, balling his hands into fists and returning to his son.

Alfred still had not moved. "Alfred." Alfred looked up, "I refuse to let you see that boy again."

"N-no!" The American protested automatically, "Y-you can't!"

Francis was absolutely boiling, "I can't? I can't! He almost killed your father! How dare you defend him!" He was so angry. He was so terribly angry. And frightened, and terrifyed and how could Alfred continue to favor that—that monster!

"You don't understand! It's not his fault!" Alfred defended, tears falling down once more. "I can prove it! I'm helping him! J-just let me go talk to him and you'll see! I can—"

"Enough!" Francis ordered, "I can't believe this Alfred. You're taking the side of the one who tried to kill your Dad! What is wrong with you?" He couldn't deal with this. Everything was just too much.

"Y-you don't understand! Please! I'll—"

"Stop! Go to your room this instant! I will not deal with this! Get out!" Francis shouted back and Alfred quickly scurried away, running up the stairs and slamming his door shut. Francis let out a breath, collapsing against the wall and sliding down it until he was on the hard floor.

What had just happened? He was shaking, he was crying. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. He had a son defending his father's attempted killer. He had said attempted killer, wandering god knows where. The same person he was suppose to keep in his house for another week. He had seen his husband struggling for life. He—God. What was he suppose to do?

"Fran—?" Came a soft wheeze and Francis was on his feet in seconds, hurrying toward his husband. Of course! He had to take care of him, make sure he was ok. And oh God he had thought he'd lost him.

"Y-yes, Arthur? Do you need anything? Tea? Scones? I'll make you scones, if you want them. I-I'll do whatever will make you better. I-"

"Sh-Shush." Arthur interrupted, motioning for him to come closer. Francis knelt down, still trembling. He'd thought he'd lost him. He was almost sure he would lose him. He was shaking so bad, he needed to calm down. Arthur was alive and ok. It was going to be ok. But, oh God.

"Mon Dieu, Arthur." He whispered, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.

"I'm fine." Arthur whispered, giving him a smile and Francis nodded slowly. But he couldn't contain himself any longer as he wrapped his arms around the others neck and breathed him in. He cried onto his shoulder, because he had been certain he had lost him and the fact that he was ok was too much. And the sight of those horrid circles growing on his neck sickened him to the core and made everything feel even worse.

"Francis, I'm ok." Arthur insisted, tugging at the Frenchman to stop his bawling. The man could be such a cry baby sometimes. Not that he blamed him at the moment. He'd honestly thought he was going to die in that moment. He was still in shock over it all. The long haired blond lifted his head up, wiping at his tear stained face with his sleeve.

"Je t'aime tellement, Arthur." (_I love you so much_) He breathed, kissing his husband's forehead. He didn't want to kiss him for real yet. He didn't want to stop him from breathing regularly.

Arthur rolled his eyes, tugging the other up more until he got on the couch with him. "I'm tired." He whispered as the Frenchman re-arranged them. He refused to lie on top of Arthur, fearful it would impede his air flow somehow. So, he turned him on his side, slipping behind him so he was sandwiched between the Brit's back and the sofa's. He wrapped his arms around his husband, keeping him close.

"Rest. It's very late." It must be 3 am or close to it. He was exhausted himself, so much so that the couch seemed extremely comfortable. He should probably have carried Arthur to their bed though. But, he was simply just too tired. He'd rather just lie here, pressed closely against him. Before long the pair had slipped into a restful slumber.

* * *

Alfred paced in his room restlessly, running his fingers through his hair and pulling on the strands. How the fuck could he fix this? It wasn't Ivan's fault! He-He had issues. He was getting better! He was helping him!

He just needed to explain it to his parents calmly. Ivan had been abused, he was damaged. He'd just lost control. This hadn't happened in months! He'd thought he'd finally helped fix him. He'd thought he'd been a hero.

Some hero he was. He had barely helped his dad and now his lover was wandering the streets scared and confused. Shit! How was he going to fix this?

He had been certain that Ivan was on the path to recovery. His boyfriend had slowly stopped closing himself up, had stopped smiling those horrid fake smiles. He'd opened up so much.

But had he really been helping?

If Ivan could snap that quickly, that violently was there really any hope for him?

Alfred made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, sitting down on his messed up bed. He couldn't think like that. He couldn't give up on Ivan. He loved him. He was the only one who did. He couldn't just abandon him.

He shot up from the bed in a start. Wait. That was a lie. He wasn't the only one. There were two people out there who loved Ivan just as much as him. Two people who wanted to see him, who'd been forced to abandon him. Two people Ivan longed to see again.

Maybe...Maybe if he brought them back Ivan would be better. They could help him convince his parents that it wasn't Ivan's fault. It was all a misunderstanding. Yeah.

It could work. It could definitely work.

He would show them. He had to be the hero after all. It was simply really, all he had to do was get a plane ticket to Moscow, find Ivan's sisters and bring them back. Then he could convince his parent's that Ivan should be forgiven. And then they could all be happy again.

It was perfect. It would work. He was sure of it.

Without another thought he opened up his laptop.

* * *

Alfred snuck down the steps, fully dressed. It was the second time this night actually. He'd come down a little earlier to take his father's wallet, using it to pay for the plane ticket. He'd then printed the ticket before slipping it into his pocket.

He set his packed bag down by the door, padding away too look for his father's car keys. He'd packed his clothes and toiletries as well as some food into his bag. He grabbed his savings, slipping them into his dad's wallet before rifling through one of the cabinets for his passport. Everything was going fine. He just needed the car keys and then he could leave.

The thing was, he couldn't find them.

The American searched as silently as he could, his mind racing with possible ideas where his parents could have left them. Maybe in the shock of the moment they had dropped them somewhere? They weren't on the counter, nor on the floor. In fact, there was one place he hadn't checked yet...

He took a deep breath before tip toeing toward the family room where both his parents had decided to sleep for the night. He needed to be careful. If they woke up it could ruin everything. He saw the glint of metal, spotting the keys right on the coffee table. At least he had found them.

He ventured further into the dark room, watching his sleeping parents' reactions closely. He edged closer to the table, cringing when his leg nudged the table and made it creak. He held his breath and tensed up when green eyes fluttered open. They drooped back down, though; his father seemed to be half asleep.

"Alfred?" Came a soft, sleepy whisper and Alfred found himself kneeling down so his father could see him. Shouldn't he have run? Why was he getting closer? He was on a mission.

"Y-yeah, Dad?" He answered back just as quietly. Arthur smiled at him, another hint that he was a half asleep. Alfred felt the beginning of guilt form in the pit of his stomach. He'd been so preocupied with Ivan...He hadn't even check on his dad to make sure he was ok.

"You're a good lad.." Arthur commented, his eyes slipping closed.

"Wh-what?" Alfred whispered, surprised at the sudden praise. That didn't normally happen. The eyes opened again, only slits though. His father made a soft noise and Alfred bit his lip. "Dad...I'll be back soon ok? Don't worry. I'll fix everything. I have to do this, because I'm a hero." He assured, chewing on his bottom lip.

Arthur's eyes had slipped shut again tiredly as he spoke, he seemed to be exhausted. Alfred really couldn't blame him. He straightened up, grabbing the car keys and padding out of the room and to his bag. He picked it up, opened the door and left.

* * *

Ivan closed the front door behind him and sank to the floor. What had he done? What had he done? What had he done?

How could he have lost control? He could have killed another person. Alfred's father. Alfred would hate him forever. Actually, he hated him now. He'd just attempted to murder his father, of course he would hate him.

He had ruined everything.

He'd never be able to see Alfred again. Alfred wouldn't even want to see him. He would be repulsed by his very presence. He'd never be able to hold him again, to feel that warmth. He felt so very cold all of a sudden. Alfred was gone.

What did he have now? He had nothing. There was nothing here but Alfred. And now Alfred was gone. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have lost control so easily? He was an idiot. He'd ruined everything.

He ran his hands through his pale hair. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to hurt something. But that was what had gotten him into trouble in the first place. He needed to be calm more than ever. Maybe some water would calm him down. Yes, that could work.

He got up shakily, heading for the kitchen. He opened up the cabinet, taking out a cup when his eyes spotted a bottle. He hesitated, staring at the offending item. He swore he would never drink any of that vile liquid. It was his father's obsession and he wanted nothing to do with the man. That horrid man.

Still...His heart hurt. And he deserved some sort of punishment. And what better way then drinking the very drink that had started his murders? The very drink that drove his father to the point where Ivan had to kill him. The very drink that had cursed him into this life of suffering and abandonment.

He grasped the vodka bottle, uncapping it and without another thought took a gulp. He cringed, letting out a choking cough. It burned. His throat ached from the substance but he couldn't help but think that Arthur felt worse. He had strangled him. He had tried to snuff his life out. He'd almost killed Alfred's father. Alfred hated him.

He'd lost Alfred.

He squeezed his eyes shut and took another swig.

* * *

Arthur's eyes fluttered open and he groaned. His neck throbbed, his shoulder ached and he felt like shit. He sat up, looking back to see Francis still sleeping. He suddenly had the urge to touch him, and for once he didn't try and suppress it. He pet the soft blond hair, smoothing it down idly.

Blue eyes blinked open slowly before their owner sat up as well. "Are you alright?" The Frenchman immediately asked, looking at the Brit with so much worry and concern that it made Arthur sick to his stomach.

"I'm fine, frog." Arthur snapped, reddening slightly. He'd survived worse. Francis, though, didn't seem convinced. He sat up beside his husband, running his fingers along his bruised neck. Arthur tensed, feeling at his own neck as well. "...Does it look that bad?" He asked after a moment, gently removing his lover's hands from his neck.

"I'm sorry." Francis whispered, leaning forward to kiss his neck. Arthur swatted him away with a blush, standing up. Enough of all this.

"Oh shut up! You're acting like you did back when I got my scar." He growled, crossing his arms. He was perfectly fine. He didn't need to be coddled by a wino. This was nothing.

"Arthur. Arthur, I'm serious." Francis insisted, standing up. The lack of humor in his voice sickened the Brit even more. He preferred the other care free. "I-I'm sorry I doubted you before. You were right about...about _him_. I should have listened to you." Francis confessed regretfully.

Arthur blinked. Francis agreed with him, finally. And yet, he felt no sense of victory. It was almost hollow. But that thought reminded him of his son, "Wait, how's Alfred?" He quickly asked, concerned about how his son had taken all of this.

Francis darkened a moment,"He...He defended _him_. Even with you gasping on the floor! I-I sent him to his room. He's still there." He was so angry at the boy. So terribly angry. He just—He couldn't believe he would defend him! He needed to calm down more before facing him again.

"I'll go check on him." Arthur responded after a minute. He wasn't mad, oddly enough. He was tired. He didn't want to fight. He just wanted to make sure his little boy was ok and to hug him. This whole ordeal... He just wanted to hold him.

"I'll start breakfast." Francis decided. He needed to calm himself, and that was the best way. He could focus on the task at hand, relax himself and then speak with Alfred like a calm adult.

They separated and Arthur climbed up the stairs while Francis left for his kitchen. The Brit bit at his lip, wondering how he would approach the situation. In truth, he didn't want to say anything. He couldn't stop the growing need to wrap his arms around Alfred and to hold him tight. He should have hugged him more. He should have told him he loved him more.

Is this how people feel after near death experiences? He didn't give the idea much thought.

He paused when something caught his eye, turning to look at it better. It was himself. The mirror in the hallway revealed what Francis had seen. No wonder he was worried. Arthur immediately touched his neck, staring at the bruises in the reflective glass. He felt sick just looking at them.

They looked awful. He rubbed his neck before clasping both hands around it to cover the damage. How was he going to hide it? It was spring; he couldn't just walk about in a scarf or a turtleneck...

It was an issue left for another time, though. He needed to talk to his son. He left the mirror without another glance and headed for the closed door. He paused in front of it, recalling how he had just burst in last night. He shouldn't have blown up like that. He shouldn't have let his anger consume him. Maybe if he hadn't known of this would have happened.

He knocked, "Alfred? Alfred, I-I want to speak with you about last night..." He said through the door, twisting the knob. Thank God, it was unlocked. He pushed it open, stepping inside only to freeze.

Alfred wasn't here.

The bed was still unmade, discarded clothes were still on the floor and Alfred was gone. He didn't even have to check another room. He could _feel _it. That sinking horrible feeling every parent gets when they just _know _their child is gone. Without another thought he sped back down the steps calling for his husband. Francis was doing the same.

They almost crashed into each other at the foot of the stairs but stopped themselves in time.

"Alfred's gone." Arthur gasped out.

"The car's gone." Francis responded in turn.

* * *

I told you there would be a curve ball...  
Please don't hurt me for this /hides/

And, Alfred's still in shock. He's not thinking straight. He's really confused and scared and terrifyed and is just jumping into action without really thinking.

I hope this isn't too weird for you guys.

OH AND OH MY GOD MORE THAN 1000 REVIEWS HOW IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME. THIS STORY ISN'T THAT GOOD AT ALL. I'M GOING TO GO CRY. I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH. I'M GOING TO REPAY YOU FOR THIS. I WILL. I JUST DON'T KNOW HOW. I'LL FIGURE SOMETHING OUT.

I LOVE YOU ALL FOREVER AND EVER.


	43. Chapter 42

The couple stared at each other as the information slipped past their lips. Their son was gone, and so was the car. That only left one conclusion. But where could Alfred have gone?

"If he ran away to that Russian again, I swear—!" Francis seethed, stopping himself mid sentence. He was furious. He hadn't stopped being furious since last night. Hadn't stopped being furious, frightened, worried, frustrated and every other negative emotion in the world.

"Calm yourself, Francis." Arthur quickly soothed and it felt extremely odd to do so. Francis was the calm one, he was the one who assured everyone. It was rarely him. But for some reason, right now, he wasn't angry. He was just worried. He wanted his son back. He wanted to hold him, he wanted to tell him how much he meant to him, and he wanted to talk to him. To really talk to him.

When had he gotten so emotional?

He touched his neck, hitching his breath slightly as it sent tiny jolts of pain when he brushed against the fresh bruises. Francis' anger left him immediately, taking his husband's wrist away from his injured neck regretfully. The Frenchman's eyes were getting watery again and Arthur was getting tired of seeing him like this. So, he forced an angry expression onto his own face.

"We better get him back." He snapped, turning to retrieve his coat but the grip on his wrist refused to loosen. He turned to look at Francis' impatiently.

"You're not coming with me." The elder blond hissed while green eyes widened, "I refuse to have you near him again. What if—What if he does it again? And I can't stop him? I-" He faltered slightly, taking a deep breath, "You're not coming with me."

"Francis don't be daft! Alfred is my son too and I wish to see him back home safe and sound! And what if he hurts you? What happens then?" Arthur argued, feeling his throat go hoarse by the end of his yelling. He shouldn't have spoken so much before...his throat was still sensitive.

"Arthur—" Francis stopped when he saw that determined stubborn look leveled at him. He let out a sigh and nodded but the worry in his blue eyes never dissipated. Arthur tried to give him a reassuring smile but it came out more as a grimace.

The Brit maneuvered to his jacket, slipping it on before freezing. He patted at his pockets, his thick eyebrows drawing close in confusion. "...Where is my wallet?"

Francis blinked, looking around the house for any signs before halting himself, "..You do not think he...?"

"We need to get to Toris' home. Now." Arthur growled out in a raspy breath, flinging the door to the garage open.

* * *

Ivan groaned, turning on the couch he still resided on. He'd never gone to bed. He'd sat there and drank the entire vodka bottle. He felt so sick. His head was pounding with a horrid headache, his stomach twisting and he just felt so alone. No one would care. No one would come help him.

The only person who would have would have wasAlfred. But he was gone now.

Because Ivan was an idiot. A fucking idiot who deserved to feel sick because he was a murderer. He'd killed two people and he had just attempted to kill another.

He groaned again, sitting up clumsily. He needed a shower. A shower would make him feel better. Not that he deserved to feel better.

He stood from the couch, staggering over to the steps. Why did the shower have to be on the second floor? It was so inconvenient. Still, he continued on.

Miraculously, he made it to the shower with little incident and the cold water did alleviate much of the pain. He still felt horrid, but now it was mostly emotional instead of physical. Soon he was back downstairs, dressed and depressed.

He was just so—so frustrated with himself. And angry. God was he angry. How could he have done something so stupid? How could he have let himself go so easily? He'd thought he was better. He'd thought that he was practically cured.

He was wrong. Horribly wrong.

And it made him so angry. Furious. It was his fault. It was his stupid father's fault. He could hear him now, laughing at him tauntingly. Why couldn't he just leave him alone? Didn't he see that he had ruined his life enough?

The glint of the empty vodka bottle caught his eye where it lay abandoned on the ground. He could already hear the mocking. _You are no better than him_ the voices hissed into his ears. He wanted it to stop. He needed it to stop. He couldn't take any of this anymore.

He wanted to hurt something, he wanted to hurt something so much.

He grabbed the vodka bottling, smashing it against the wall with a loud shout. It shattered, and he covered his face quickly to protect himself. He shouldn't have been so close to the wall. He let out a gasping breath, taking a few steps back and sinking to the ground.

What was he doing? Breaking a bottle would not help him in the slight—

He looked down at his hands to see them covered in blood. He must have gotten cut. Now he was bleeding.

There was blood on his hands once more.

Ivan started to take in shallower and shallower breaths, staring at his hands. The voices multiplied until there was a cacophony of whispers in his ears. He couldn't take all this. He couldn't. He wanted everything to stop. He could tell he was crying. He was whispering too, he just didn't know what.

No one was going to help him this time though. Alfred wasn't here. Alfred didn't care. Nobody cared. He was alone. So horribly alone.

Then, the door flew open.

* * *

"Like, you need to calm down. Seriously, it'll be totally fine!" The blond man assured happily, lying on the bed on his stomach. His feet were in the air, kicking childishly as he spoke.

"I just want us all to be together again!" The woman lamented, trying to stem her near constant flow of tears.

"And you like will. No worries. All three of you guys will be out of here in a day or two!"

* * *

Arthur leaped out of the car as soon as Francis drove it into the Lithuanian's driveway. His car wasn't here, but perhaps Alfred had parked it down the road. He could definitely still be here. The Brit rushed to the front door, his husband right beside him.

The heard a loud shout as they neared it, hurrying their steps. They knocked and yelled through the door but received no response. Francis tried the doorknob and they were both shocked to find it unlocked. Without another thought he flung the door open, stepping inside.

Alfred wasn't there. Arthur didn't know how he could tell so easily by just one look but he just knew his little boy wasn't here. Logic then dictated for him to leave, to continue his search because every moment he wasted was another mile between him and his baby.

But something stopped him. Ivan stopped him.

Ivan was slumped to the ground in the corner, looking lost and frightened. He hadn't seemed to notice them yet which was extremely odd since the door had made an awful loud sound. He was staring at his hands—was that blood?—with wide unseeing eyes. He was talking to himself too, a creepy chant that Arthur could not comprehend.

This was the boy who endangered his family. This was the boy who hurt his Alfred numerous times. This was the boy he had grown wary of for months. This was the boy who had just a few hours prior attempted to take away his life. This boy was the very reason his Alfred was missing.

But in the end, he was just that—a boy. A scared, frightened little boy.

Arthur didn't know what compelled him to approach Ivan. Perhaps it was his heightened fatherly instinct, the already high worry for his son now translating to sudden worry for the boy in front of him. Whatever it was he went with it. He knew he should just leave, continue searching. But he couldn't. He couldn't when Ivan looked just so hopeless, so little.

_Like a tiny blue eyed boy in the alley way scared and frightened, wanting his Daddy to come __save him and his little brother._

Except, Ivan didn't have a father. At least, not anymore.

"Ivan? Ivan are you alright?" Arthur spoke surprisingly softly. He edged closer, still not understanding the pale blond's strange words. He was probably speaking Russian.

"Arthur..." Francis voice sounded in the background. The Frenchman was worried, rightfully so. But, like usual, the Englishman ignored him completely.

He crouched downs so that he was now at the teen's eye level, "Ivan..Ivan I need you to focus." He continued, a little more sternly.

The boy looked up. "Я никогда не могу устанавливать мир, не так ли?, отец - всегда там. Шептание мне, напоминая мне. Я - ужасный человек. Это невозможно для людей остаться со мной. Все, что я люблю, убрано. Есть так много крови на моих руках, и это никогда не отрывается независимо от того, насколько я моюсь. Каков пункт даже попытки? Я должен только позволить мне падение." (_I can never have peace, can I? Father is always there. Whispering to me, reminding me. I am a horrible person. It is impossible for people to stay with me. Everything I love is taken away. There is so much blood on my hands and it never comes off no matter how much I wash. What is the point of even trying? All I do is desperately cling to the edge. Clinging for forever. I should just let myself fall._)

"Ivan. Ivan stop it." He snapped, taking the boy's face and forcing it to look into his own, "Now you listen to me, boy. You're going to snap out of this. Do you understand? Stop this nonsense." His voice rasped by the end of it but he ignored the tender feeling in his throat.

Ivan still wasn't focusing, but at least he had stopped his chanting. Arthur frowned, releasing the boy's face in favor of taking one of his wrists and tugging him up. On closer inspection his hand was bleeding, he needed to stop that.

"Francis, find Toris' first aid kit." The Brit ordered, leading the pliant boy to the kitchen sink. He wasn't entirely sure if the Russian knew what was going on in his surroundings. He seemed to be stuck in his own little word.

He turned the faucet on, making sure the water was neither too hot nor too cold. He placed the injured hand under the stream, watching the blood wash away. He felt the teen jolt under his firm grip on his wrist when the water first touched his skin. The Englishman tilted his head back to see violet eyes refocusing, staring at him in utter confusion.

"Good. You're back." Arthur clipped out, "This might sting." He warned, washing the wound gently before patting it dry. It was just a cut, but it was a bit deep. Francis brought the kit and Arthur rummaged through it quickly. "This _will_ sting." He said, rubbing the disinfectant before wrapping the boys hand with a strip of band aid.

Ivan, meanwhile was terribly confused. What was Alfred's English father doing here? Most importantly why was he helping him? Why was he taking care of him? Why did he care?

"Why?" He vocalized lamely, feeling very odd. He could clearly see the bruises he'd left on the other man. He shouldn't be doing this. Why was he helping him? It made no sense. Absolutely no sense.

Arthur released his wrist, closing the kit and ignoring the question entirely. Frankly, he had no idea why. He'd just done what was right. Francis decided to step in, placing himself between his husband and the boy protectively. The boy could snap at any moment...

"Have you seen Alfred?" Francis asked coldly, skeptically. His blue eyes glared at Ivan's confused ones, waiting.

"..Not since last night..." Ivan responded slowly, "He is gone?"

"Yes. Are you sure? Do you have any idea where he could possibly be?" Arthur continued, displeased that Francis had stepped between them. This coddling was getting on his nerves. He was a man. He could take care of himself.

That and the frustration and worry within him over his lost son was trying to spill out in a more familiar fashion—anger toward his husband.

"Nyet...Alfred hasn't spoken to me...Perhaps a fast food place?" Ivan offered though he still wasn't grasping it, "What is it you mean by 'gone'?"

"I mean that he is missing. So is the car and my wallet." Arthur growled back, feeling anxious and frustrated. They needed to get back to searching. They were wasting time.

"The wallet!" Francis cried out suddenly, turning toward his husband, "If he has used one of your cards then we can see where he has been!"

Green eyes widened in realization. Why hadn't they thought of that yet? How could they have been so stupid? With a shaky hand he grabbed at his cellphone, opening it, "I'll call the bank." He stepped a ways away, waiting impatiently as the phone rang.

Narrowed blue eyes focused on the tall teen once more, "You are sure Alfred has not been here?" Francis did not trust him at all. Never again would he make the mistake.

"Yes. I am sure." Ivan replied, no longer concentrating on the two. Alfred was gone. Gone. Missing. Without a word. Where could he be? He needed to think. Who would he tell other than himself? His violet eyes lit up, "Have you asked Matvey—Matthew?"

Francis' eyes widened in horror. He'd forgotten Matthew. He never forgot Matthew. He was the only one. There had been too many things happening, the boy had slipped his mind completely. Mon Dieu, he didn't know anything!

He slipped his hand into his pocket, taking his phone out and pressing the speed dial. He waited impatiently for it to be answered.

He had almost given up when the soft familiar voice answered, "...Hello?"

"Matthieu! Matthieu something has happened. We are picking you up as soon as possible. Be ready."

"..What? Wait, what's going on? What happened?"

"I'll explain later. Just be ready." Francis snapped hurriedly before quickly remembering, "Alfred hasn't contacted you, has he?"

"Al? No...Why? What happened? Is he ok?"

"Just be ready."

Francis hung up, pressing his fingers to his temple. Dear God hearing Matthew's worried voice was not helping him. He needed a smoke. No. No he didn't. He quit.

But God would it be heavenly to have just one.

"Thank you very much. Goodbye." Arthur mumbled hurriedly, hanging up his own cell and turning to the two. He looked awfully pale. Francis dreaded whatever he was about to say, perhaps he would need more than one hypothetical cigarette.

"He bought a ticket to Russia."

The two stared at him in disbelief. Russia? _Russia?_ Francis was the first to recover, "Russia? Why ever would he do that? He can't go to Russia! You can't just buy a ticket and be off to Russia in less than a days notice!"

"The plane hasn't left yet, we have to stop him."

* * *

Alfred, though, had already stopped himself.

Everything had been fine. He had been grinning, his mind racing and reassuring himself that it would work out. Everything would be fine. He was speeding to the airport on an adrenaline high, just itching to get on that plane and save the day. He was going to be a hero.

He made it to the airport's parking lot before he crashed.

He had parked the car, took out his keys, and reached for the door handle. Then he had stopped. He froze really. And then, suddenly, everything fell on him.

What the fuck was he doing? He was running away to fucking Russia. He didn't even know where the fucking orphanage was, what Ivan's sisters looked like. Russia was fucking huge. How the hell would he be able to find them? No wonder his father called him an idiot.

And his Dad. Oh God. His Dad had almost died. Died. Been lost forever. He'd never see his green eyes and huge eyebrows. He'd never get those rare soft smiles. He'd never feel those comforting hands as they ruffled his hair. He'd never hear his voice.

He had almost lost him. And he had done nothing.

He'd stood there like an idiot. And what did he do after that? He locked himself in his room for a few hours. Why hadn't he gone to his Dad! Why hadn't it crossed his mind? What if he had died! He should have hugged him, done fucking something!

And Alfred found himself hugging his backpack tightly to his chest, sobbing. He didn't know how long he sat in that parking lot crying alone but it felt like an eternity. What the fuck was he doing?

He tried to calm himself. He took deep calming breaths, wiping at his eyes constantly with his wet sleeve. He picked up his cell, canceled the flight and started crying all over again.

He wanted someone to hold him. He wanted his Daddy.

He wanted Ivan.

He couldn't have any of that though.

Part of him told him he should go home. But he just couldn't. He didn't know why, or what was telling him not to. He just knew he couldn't set foot in that house, at least not for a while.

After what felt like an eternity, he started his car and pulled out of the parking lot.

* * *

"Hurry up Frog!" Arthur snapped, flexing his grip on the arm rest as Francis speeded through the streets. "Why are you going this way?"

"To pick up Matthieu." Francis growled, turning sharply. "Remember? Our other son? Now please shut up, you yelling will not help the situation."

Ivan remained silent in the back, thinking. He'd rather the bickering couple forget his presence all together since it was a miracle that he'd even been allowed to come. Alfred was going to Russia. Alfred was going to Russia. Why would he do something so stupid? He knew nothing of Russia! And why? Why would he ever want to go there?

Perhaps to find his sisters, was a warm romantic thought that seeped through his brain. But he shot it down. Alfred hated him. He wouldn't do that.

And he'd never told Alfred details, important ones. Such as, where the orphanage was, what it was called, what his sisters looked like etc. It be impossible to find them.

So, why did he go?

He had to stop him. Alfred wouldn't survive in Russia. He didn't know the language, he didn't know anybody. He would get lost, he could get mugged or worse. He needed to make sure he didn't get on the plane.

Which was why he had convinced Alfred's fathers to let him come. And for the first time it was the English one who had agreed with him first.

_"He is not coming! I do not even want him this close to you!"_

_ "The kid is right! Alfred will listen to him! He'd get on that plane just to spite our arses!"_

It had been quite the surprise, but he hadn't argued and found himself in the car with the two bickering men. He'd heard them bicker before but this was...a bit darker. He didn't know why, the air just felt tenser, their body language angrier.

They fell silent though, as the car stopped in front of a house. Ivan could see Matthew, already waiting outside, hurry toward them. He had barely climbed in when the car was racing again, this time in the direction of the airport.

"What's going on? What's happening? Where's Al? Is he okay?" Matthew asked quickly, worry dripping from his soft voice. The twin knew there was something horribly wrong.

Unfortunately no one would answer him. His parents had started arguing again and Matthew was taken a back by the ferocity of it. So, he decided not to interrupt. He looked over at Ivan (whom he'd been surprised to find in the car) for some sort of answer.  
Ivan ignored him though, much too preoccupied with his own thoughts to even acknowledge the other boy. He would find out sooner or later.

Matthew sighed, flipping his phone out to see if he could maybe text Al himself for answers. He cringed when his parents arguing went up a notch in volume. This was one of those rare fights that had him wanting to make a fort with his twin, hide away in it and hug Kumajirou close. But Al wasn't here and he was stuck in the car.

Just what had Alfred done?

"Will you just shut your bloody mouth! My phone is ringing!" Arthur cried, picking up his phone and shoving it open. "Yes? What?"

He grew deathly silent, "You're certain?" Francis blinked, flicking his gaze at his husband and slowing the vehicle down.

Arthur hung up, "He returned it."

"What?" Francis asked, confused.

"..Alfred returned the plane ticket."

There was silence. For once Matthew, was the one to break it, "Wait! What plane ticket? Can someone please tell me what's happening? Where's Al?"

After a moment he was finally answered, "We have no idea." Arthur replied grimly.

* * *

I almost didn't post a chapter this week...Someone very close to me past away a few days ago. I've been pretty down from it but I got some inspiration yesterday and wrote this. I'm sorry if it sucks (i'm pretty sure it does; it's short as hell too orz) but honestly, I'm just too depressed right now to care.

I love you guys. I still do. I'll be fine so don't worry your pretty little heads. Reviews are always nice.

See you next week and I promise it'll be ten times better than this crap.


	44. Chapter 43

I KNOW IM HORRIBLE. ENJOY YOUR CHAPTER. LAME EXCUSES AT THE BOTTOM.

* * *

The Bonnefoys (plus Ivan) decided to return home first to see if Alfred had simply come back. He hadn't. Arthur had searched the boy's bedroom and found nothing. No note, no message. Nothing. Just the same mess of a room he'd always seen and grown accustomed to. It made his heart ache.

Francis calm exterior had shattered. He was jittery, worried, nervous and argumentative. He needed a smoke. Just one and he would be fine. But there wasn't a single cigarette pack in the entire God damn house. He took a calming breath.

It simply wasn't working anymore.

This was worse than the previous time Alfred had run away, ten times worse. At least they had known where he was. He was at a friend's house. He was safe. He would be fed properly, have a bed to sleep in. They knew he would be perfectly fine.

But not now. Who knew where Alfred had driven off to. He could be in an alley being mugged or worse. He could be buying drugs. There were countless horrible things he could be doing and Arthur and Francis were powerless to stop him.

They wanted their boy back home, safe and sound.

Ivan had his own mess of problems. He kept going through his head any possible locations Alfred could be frequenting. But he dismissed them all, realizing Alfred wouldn't go to any of them. The blond was trying to get away from all of them, so he would not go to any area familiar to them. Alfred was much smarter than most people thought.

Matthew, himself, was horribly confused. He still had no idea what had happened. Nobody was giving him a straight answer. In fact, they were all ignoring him entirely. This always happened! He was always ignored at the crucial times he craved for any semblance of attention! Something terrible had happened, he'd gathered that. Something so terrible that Alfred had run away, for real this time.

Well fine then. If no one would tell him then he'd just ask Alfred himself. He pulled his cell out of his pocket, "I'm calling Al." He notified simply, casually. It was like they were actually listening to him-

Finally, everyone looked over at him and paid attention.

"Call him? He won't answer." Arthur assured, though there was just a tiny smidge of hope growing at the pit of his stomach. Maybe he would answer if his brother, his twin was calling him. Just maybe...

"We'll see soon enough." Matthew shrugged, dialing the number and waiting. It rang once, twice, and he frowned. Maybe Al wouldn't pick up, maybe it was that serious. Why wouldn't anyone tell him anything? It wasn't fair! He _deserved_ to know! He was Alfred's _twin_. Did that mean nothing to his parents? It a rang a third, a fourth time and Matthew pulled the phone away from his ear with the intent of hanging up.

And then suddenly, Alfred answered.

* * *

Alfred drove around for a while, not really paying attention to where he was going. He was lost in his own thoughts. He felt so exhausted. He wanted to go home, but, at the same time, he didn't want to go near that place ever again.

He wanted a hug. He wanted someone to help him. He couldn't do this alone anymore. He didn't know how to save the situation. He didn't know how to save his boyfriend. Ivan still needed help since he obviously wasn't doing enough. He just didn't know who to turn to. Who would help him.

It was getting late, and so Alfred decided to drive to some cheap motel for the night. He paid with cash, realizing that his parents would find him if he used their card. He'd have to take some of the money out later... He didn't want them tracking him down already. He needed some air, some time to think. Alone.

He stumbled into the sparsely decorated room, falling on the bed. He curled up on his side and stared at the wall. What the hell was he going to do? He'd have to go home at some point. He sighed.

He jolted when he felt a sudden vibration, realizing it was his phone. He slipped it out, looking at the ID. It was Mattie. Matthew. His brother. His _twin._ If anyone could help him it'd be him! Desperately, he flipped his cell phone open and pressed it to his ear.

"M-Mattie? Mattie I need your help." He whispered, waiting impatiently for a response. Oh please, please, _please_ let his brother help him! He needed. Oh God did he need it right now.

"He answered!" Matthew shouted out, notifying the rest of the people gathered around him. This was not the best idea he'd ever had. Suddenly there was a cacophony of noise in his and Alfred's ear. The American heard the distinct sound of three voices shouting, "Let me speak to him!"

Alfred panicked. He didn't want to speak to Papa, or Dad or even Ivan (a small voice inside his head wondered how the three were even in the same room together after all that happened but he shook it away). He wanted to speak to his brother, and only his brother, "If you put any of them on I'll hang up and turn my phone off!" He shouted back quickly, loud enough for the intruders to hear.

He was met with silence. A nice calming silence and then his brother's desperate voice, "Al. Al where are you?"

"I'm not telling you. I need to talk to you Mattie. I really need to talk to you. Please." He answered, his voice cracking slightly. He couldn't care less about how emotional he was sounding. He couldn't care less about anything.

Matthew was taken a back by the desperation in his elder brother's voice. Alfred hadn't asked for a bro talk in a long time, ever since he and Ivan had started dating seriously. A part of him was happy to be needed, another was extremely concerned. "I'm right here Al. You can talk to me." He replied softly, soothingly.

"No." Alfred hissed back, "No, you have to be alone. I want you to go to your room and lock the door. Please. Please, I don't want them to hear."

Matthew frowned, still so very confused about what had happened. No one had told him anything still and he was fucking sick of it. Alfred was his twin! He deserved to know what was hurting him! He hated seeing his brother like this and not being able to stop it. If only he knew what was going on.

"I'm going to my room. Don't bother me." He notified the eagerly listening trio. There was immediate protests but he ignored them all, stomping up the steps and into his room. He looked at the knob, hesitated but decided to lock it. "Ok. I'm alone. What happened? What's wrong?"

"Everything's wrong!" Alfred snapped back, lying down on his bed and staring up at the ceiling. "I thought Ivan was better and then he did—he did _that_!" He spat out in disgust.

"What did he do?" Matthew asked, tensing. How hard was it to get some information?

The line went silent before Alfred responded quietly, "...You...You don't know?" When his brother didn't respond, he answered the dreaded question, "Ivan...Ivan strangled Dad."

Matthew dropped the phone in shock, frantically searching for it again and pressing it back to his ear, "What? Strangled? Strangled? What do you mean strangled?"

"Mattie...Mattie remember how I said there was something I couldn't tell you?" Alfred asked softly, wiping at his watery eyes. He ignored his twin's blabbering, too focused on his own problems. He needed to get to the point so he could get some advice. He needed his twin's input.

The younger slowed, "Yeah..."

"W-well, I want to tell you now. I—I can't do this alone anymore. I can't. B-but you have to promise. You have to promise you won't tell Dad, or Papa or anyone!" He added quickly, tightening his grip on his cell.

Matthew hesitated before acquiescing, "O-ok. I promise." Hopefully, he'd be able to keep it.

Alfred sat up in the cold bed, drawing his knees close to his chest, "It's about Ivan...He—He has issues Mattie." He confessed with a long suffering sigh.

"What kind of issues?" The younger probed, trying to help his twin open up more with direct questions. It had always helped before.

"Mattie..He-He was abused when he was little, like a lot. And he-he...God Mattie he killed people." He said bluntly, cringing at himself. How could he had just dropped the bomb like that? Jeez he was bad at this.

Matthew blinked in disbelief, wondering if he'd misheard, "Wait, What?"

"He-He killed this guy who tried to..well basically tried to rape him...And he-he killed his dad who was touching his elder sister like that." Alfred explained hurriedly, a lame effort of defending his lover...Or ex-lover according to his parents...

"He...He killed two people?" Matthew repeated surreally as time seemed to slow. Ivan was a murderer. And he was in his house. He'd been at his house for months. His brother was dating a murderer, knowingly. Oh God, how could this have happened?

It couldn't be happening! It couldn't be! This was just an elaborate joke by his brother. There was no way any of this could possibly true.

"Y-yes, and I was helping him Mattie! Everything was going fine! And th-then yesterday Ivan—He snapped all over again and almost killed Dad!" Alfred wiped at his watery eyes, hating how the quiver in his voice seemed to only be getting worse. "I don't know what to do anymore! I thought I had fixed him! And now Dad and Papa won't ever let me see him, and he'll only get worse without me and-and-"

"Al." Matthew interrupted with the growing realization that Alfred wasn't lying. Horror was dawning upon him slowly as the shock began to slowly fade away, "Al, if what you are saying is true then Ivan needs professional help. You don't know what you're doing."

"N-No! They'll put him in jail! I'll never see him again!" Alfred shouted back quickly. He couldn't do that to him! Ivan would only get worse in prison he knew that!

"Al, Al you gotta do the right thing. Ivan's only going to get worse. You have to tell Dad and Papa." Matthew continued undeterred. Event though he still didn't believe it. Refused to believe it.

"I...I can't do that. And you can't either! You promised!" He added hurriedly.

Matthew sighed, "Ok, I won't." Not for now at least. Alfred should be the one. Plus, he still couldn't even wrap his own head around it. "You need to come home." He reminded quickly.

"I'm not. Not for a while. I need to think. Bye."

And before Matthew could get a word in his brother had hung up. He dialed Alfred's number again to call him back but only got the voicemail.

Alfred had turned off his phone.

* * *

"What do you mean you didn't find out where he was?" Arthur snapped, staring at his son incredulously.

"He didn't tell me! He says he won't come back for a while..." Mathew responded, wishing he could back away and disappear. He was always ignored when he wanted to be seen, and paid attention to when he wanted to be ignored. He needed to think. All those things, horrible things, Alfred had told him still had not yet sunk in. He was in a daze.

"This is why I should have spoke to him!" Francis said in frustration, "You should have given me the phone!"

"He would have hun-" Matthew tried to remind, but was interrupted.

"You? You're the reason he ran off in the first place!" Arthur yelled back, instinctively. Francis eyes widened, hurt prevalent in the sapphire pools. Then they hardened and he took a step forward.

"Me? You're the one constantly fighting with him! You're the one who keeps pushing him away!" He snapped back, too irritated to think rationally over it. He was too frazzled and worried and yelling made him feel better. And he knew it was his fault! The blame was already eating him up he didn't need Arthur reminding him.

"You're the bad influence! All you do is spout out sex and nonsense until that's all they think about!" Arthur growled out, knowing he should stop but he just couldn't. He was beyond worry, beyond furious. His nerves were shot. He needed to expel it all, and Francis had always been a wonderful target.

"D-Dad!" Matthew cried out softly in surprise. His parents fighting was nothing new... But this, this was different. Their tone was so much darker, nastier. Their voices filled with malice like venom. It scared him.

"And you? All you do is scream and shout and belittle everything they do! Why can't you ever say something nice! This is why he acts as if he hates you all the time!" Francis shouted, smashing his fist down against the counter.

"P-Papa!" Matthew squeaked out in surprise, shocked at how angry his papa had gotten. This fight was getting to be too much.

"Why did I marry such an incompetent sex crazed frog!"

"Why did I stay with such a bitter old man!"

"Please stop." The young teen whimpered, covering his ears. He hated this. He wanted to go curl up under his bed covers with Alfred, playing some game with their toys until it stopped. But Alfred wasn't here. And his parents were getting worse. And he was being ignored. Again.

"You're older than me! God damn it I hate you!" Arthur spat out, his sharp words slicing through Francis like a blade. And it hurt.

"You hate me? There isn't even a word for the hate I feel for you!" Francis quickly retaliated, with just as much hurt aimed at the Brit.

"The door is right there! Why don't you get out! The children would be better off without you anyway!"

"Is that what you really think? Then fine! I'll leave! I never want to see you and those hideous brows on your face again!"

Matthew whimpered as the door slammed shut. He wanted to sink into his bed and hide. His parent's hadn't fought like this in years. He couldn't take it. Not alone at least.

Arthur was shaking, trying to hold himself steady with the kitchen counter. He flinched when the door slammed shut, trying to keep himself together. He looked down at the marble, taking deep breaths. The glint of his wedding ring caught his eye and in a fit of anger and frustration he tore it off his finger, ready to hurl it away. But he stopped.

He backed away, hitting the wall and sliding down to the floor, holding the ring tightly in his hand. And suddenly it felt like they were dating again, all those horrid fights that left his heart aching. He thought they were done with those. Apparently not.

He took in a shuddering breath and slipped the ring back into its rightful place, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He whispered to himself, wiping at his eyes.

He hadn't meant any of what he'd said. He was just so worried. He just wanted Alfred home. He couldn't stand not knowing where he was or if he was ok. And it had all just exploded out of him.

"D-Dad?" Matthew stuttered, hovering over him worriedly.

Arthur looked up, he'd forgotten the boy had been there. He forced on a smile, wiping at his eyes again because they just would not stop watering and standing up. "Don't worry Matthew. Everything's fine. Ev-Everything is just fine."

Matthew looked anything but convinced.

* * *

Francis sat on the front step, his anger having drained completely when he slammed the door. He held his face in his hands muttering French curses under his breath. It was getting dark. The stars were beginning to shine in the sky. It could have been a romantic evening, but he wasn't in the mood for any of that.

He hoped Alfred was alright wherever he was. That he had a bed to sleep in. That he was somewhere safe.

He sighed wondering if he should go and look for the boy some more or if he should wait here until Arthur let him back in. Did he even have his car keys on him? A quick check left him with a 'no'. He supposed he could walk around a bit or something.

His phone rang.

He blinked, wondering if it was Arthur already forgiving him. He opened the cell up, and pressed it to his ear, "Hello?"

"Erm, Hello Francis.." Francis knew that voice.

"Toris?" He questioned, surprised.

"Yes. Uh, I'm going to be back sooner than I thought..." The timid voice replied, nervously.

"Toris, we need to talk about Ivan." Francis said quickly, a slight bitter taste in his tone. There was no way Ivan was going to be let off the hook for what he had done. He blinked when there was a commotion on the other line. A feminine voice was definitely screaming something in the background.

"Ah I'm s-sorry, just a second Francis." Toris responded, before continuing in a muffled voice. The Frenchman couldn't discern what he was saying but he seemed to be speaking to the girl with him. Maybe to soothe her? She did sound quite distressed.

Francis tensed when he heard his friend whimper, and the phone clattering to the ground. What was going on? "Toris?"

"Privyet? Ivan! Ivan! I vant to speak with Ivan!" It was the girl's voice now, loud and desperate. Who was she? She was definitely foreign from her thick accent. And she sounded very young. (Francis was quite the expert in guessing a women's age. It came in handy when he was bachelor.)

"Ivan isn't with me right now, he can't speak on the phone..." He replied slowly, confused.

There was a growl on the other line, "Let me speak to Ivan! Ivan! Ivan!" She continued calling his name, louder and louder hoping that her target could somehow hear her. It was getting on Francis' nerves. He was tempted to simply hang up. He didn't have time for this. He had a son missing and an angry hurt husband and a violent teenager to deal with.

"Natalia! Stop it!" Toris shouted, stealing the phone back, "I'm sorry Francis, I have to go."

And before the blond could even think of saying goodbye, the line went dead.

Francis blinked, staring at the phone in his hand in confusion. What was that all about?

He probably should have pondered the conversation more but he simply didn't care enough. He had more pressing issues at hand. Like Alfred's whereabouts and Arthur's feelings.

He stood up with new found determination and knocked on the front door before opening it. He was slightly surprised to discover it open but shook it off. Hopefully Arthur would be calm by now and they could apologize and move on. They needed each other now more than ever. They shouldn't be fighting.

He closed the door behind him, walking slowly to where he'd left his husband in the kitchen. He almost didn't spot him, he was sitting on the ground, staring at his wedding ring. Francis bit his lip kneeling down beside him.

Arthur glanced up before looking away quickly. Francis sighed, unfolding his legs to sit more comfortably against the wall. They didn't say anything to each other, simply sat side by side silently. A few moments passed and Arthur leaned his head against his husband's shoulder, barely reacting as Francis' leaned his head on his in turn.

Arthur closed his green eyes tiredly, "When Alfred comes home..." He began, "I say we take a week off and just go somewhere. The four of us. Together."

Francis gave a slight nod, slipping an arm around the Brit to tug him a milimeter closer. "Arthur Je-Je suis desole..." (_I'm sorry_) He finally managed to utter.

"I...I-Me too." Arthur breathed out with difficulty, turning to face the Frenchman for the first time since he came in.

* * *

Alfred lay in bed, simply staring at the ceiling for a long, long time. He didn't know what he should do. Mattie was right, Ivan need help. Professional help. But what if he told someone and they put the Russian in jail? That would only make Ivan worse!

Maybe having his sisters around would help him, make him saner. To see that they were alright and not have to constantly worry over their condition. That had to help!

He just didn't know how to get them. Maybe he should have gone to Russia, so it would at least feel as though he was doing _something_ instead of just lying around doing nothing at all.

He rolled over on to his side. Why was everything so God damn complicated in his life? Last year had never been so stressful, so painful. Ivan had done this with his presence, he knew it.

Perhaps it would have been better to have just never talked to the Russian again. Who knew, maybe he'd be at home having fun instead of lying here alone. Maybe everything would have gone right instead of wrong.

But, even though it had been stressful, he'd had some of the happiest times with the big lug. He didn't really want to sacrifice that. In fact, he was pretty glad he'd gotten that concussion a while back. It was the start of something new, something interesting, something challenging.

Very challenging.

He sat up.

What was he doing? Wallowing in self pity? He was a fucking hero! He needed to take action. Needed to do something to help his boyfriend! How else was shit gonna happen? He'd start researching psychologists in the area, look up info on a certain Russian orphanage! He would fix this, he would!

...First thing in the morning, though. He was exhausted. Probably from crying. He was so pathetic...

No. He needed to get out of that mind frame. Feeling bad wouldn't help! Everything would work out. Somehow.

* * *

"Feliks, you don't have to come. You've done enough already."

"Nah, like it's no big deal! Plus, I want to make sure they're all settled nice and safe! Also I want to see your house! I bet it's fabulous, not as much as mine but still!"

"But-"

"Shh, It's fine! I want to make sure Kat's alright, ya know? What do you expect when she's been like livin' with me for months?"

"I-"

The blond man put a finger to the other's lips, ending his protests with a little giggle, "Nope. I'm coming!"

"..Alright..."

* * *

Arthur didn't feel like sleeping. Ivan was in the guest bedroom. Matthew wasn't speaking to him, locking himself in his own room. Francis...Everytime he looked at him he wanted to cry on his shoulder. But he also wanted to scream at him and blame him for everything.

He wanted his son back in his home safe and sound.

He'd debated calling the police to file a missing person's notice but he'd decided not to, for now. He didn't trust the police. They never helped him before, why would they start now? All he could think about was the old neighborhood where they never gave a damn if he or Francis were harassed.

And if he did call them he'd have to explain the bruises. And he did not want to do that.

Arthur sighed, lying on his arms which rested on the table. He didn't know what to do.

He jumped when he felt arms encircle his neck, and a new weight on his shoulders. He relaxed as he felt the familiar scratchy feeling of the other's chin against his cheek.

"I don't want to fight." Francis murmured softly. Arthur didn't respond, only continued to look at the table sadly. He didn't want to fight either. Especially not like a few hours before. They'd sat on the floor for a long time before their legs started to fall asleep as their bodies demanded they get up.

"Arthur...Arthur what are we going to do?" Francis murmured into the blond unruly hair he adored so very much.

The Englishman's hands clenched on the table, "We're going to find him. We're going to look. And we're going to find him."

* * *

WHO'S A HORRIBLE AUTHOR? ME! OTL

THERE IS NO WAY TO EXCUSE MY HIATUS BUT, JUST IN CASE YOU'RE CURIOUS:

2. Vacation. For two weeks. With no comp.

3. Summer work. Which I'm still not done.

4. COLLEGE APPLICATIONS HOLY SHIT I'M FREAKING OUT IM GOING TO DIE FROM STRESS

So, that's my lame excuse. Anyways, again, i'm REALLY sorry. But don't worry. I'm not giving up on this fic! I made you guys a promise and I intend to keep it. Plus, we only have a few more chapters to go!

I hope the chapter doesn't suck. orz.

Review even if I don't deserve it. Because I do love you. I really do.

I'm not promising an update in a week because I honestly don't know. School starts soon.


	45. Chapter 44

Alfred fidgeted in his seat, the heat from his laptop burning his lap. This seat was way to uncomfortable to be legal. He sighed, drawing his legs in once more to make room for a couple with luggage to walk by him briskly. He hated airports.

He'd woken up three days ago feeling refreshed and focused. He was going to do some research today. He was going to be productive today. In fact, that was the reason he was sitting here, at the entrance to the airport.

He'd set himself up with his laptop in the hotel room, still in his pajamas. But, he'd felt like he was doing nothing. He showered, dressed himself and tried again. Yet, he still felt like a failure. So, he drove to the airport, his original ludicrous plan coming to mind. There, he felt he was doing something. He had little idea why. But he went with it.

Which is how he found himself sitting in the uncomfortable airport seats for the next three days in a row.

He'd discovered a lot from his internet searches as well as simply talking to people who sat beside him. The airport was a great place to meet a lot of different people with a lot of different back stories and advice.

Alfred loved talking to and meeting new people. He'd always been a social person and it was never a problem to turn to his side and begin a conversation with the stranger sitting beside him. He'd met a few other Russians, all who'd had much better experiences than his boyfriend, thankfully. They'd tried to help him locate the orphanage on a map with the few details he'd gathered but none of them could really offer much. Still, it had been interesting to talk to the random people of the world.

Most importantly, he'd even met a few actual therapists who'd given him their cards and everything. Alfred has already decided that Ivan needed professional, therapeutic help. The only question was who to trust.

One had stood out in his mind. Some Swedish guy with piercing blue eyes who didn't talk much. It was amazing. For some reason when he was sitting next to the guy he ended up opening up about a lot of the things that had been bothering him. The stoic face had never changed, and he hadn't said a thing. Well, he had spoken as he got up to leave in his very thick accent, "F'r yo'r fr'end." And had handed him his card.

He could feel it now in his pocket. A simple card with an unpronounceable long name and a phone number. He would call it later.

The man might just be able to help Ivan.

Which is why he was currently fidgeting in his seat with a too hot computer wondering why he was still hanging around here instead of returning home with the good news. He _should_ go home. He'd done what he'd come out to do. He'd accomplished his goal. He had a new, much better, plan to help Ivan. He should go home now.

But he didn't.

He couldn't.

He didn't know why, but something compelled him to stay in that cheap ugly motel. To sit in that overcrowded airport. To chat with the interesting strangers.

He got his answer on the third day. The day a young pretty girl with long pale blond hair succeeded in grabbing his (and airport security for thaat matter airport security's) attention under the divine mission of finding her big brother.

Alfred sat alone in the airport, sipping an over priced iced tea and nibbling on a muffin he'd bought nearby. He was playing around on the internet, minding his own business when high pitched screeching caught his attention.

* * *

He looked up, seeing a distressed trio in the middle of the airport, the culprits causing the scene. They were three blonde girls, but only one, the one with the longest hair was screaming. The other two seemed to be trying to calm he down but to no avail. Should he intervene? He could see airport security eyeing them as well...Alfred chewed at his lip a moment before springing from his seat and hurrying over.

What kind of hero would he be if he didn't even offer his aid to the poor ladies?

The situation became clearer the closer he came. The long haired girl was screaming something in a language he couldn't understand. The tallest girl, with short pale blond hair and the hugest rack he'd ever seen in his life, was sobbing into her hands. Seriously, they were huge. And they bounced a little when she sobbed. They couldn't be real! Could they...

He cleared his head with a quick shake to look at the third girl with short vibrant blond hair. She seemed to be annoyed more than anything, halfheartedly trying to calm down the other two. She also seemed to be looking around for someone in particular.

Alfred approached them.

"What's wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?" He asked charmingly with one of his famous smiles. The three girls turned to him, though he didn't think Booberella understood him from her confused face.

"Like, we're fine! We're just waitin' for someone." The vibrant girl brushed off, flipping her hair a little as she spoke. Alfred blinked, something was off...Wait a minute...

"Holy shit you're a dude!" He cried out, causing the once vibrant girl now vibrant guy to redden in anger.

"You rude little-!" He yelled out, bringing his hand back to slap him across the face. Luckily though Booberella stopped him quickly.

The long haired girl stepped in at that moment, gripping onto his shirt tightly. He almost thought she would rip right through the fabric. She then proceeded to speak hurried-whatever-it-was-she-was-speaking at him.

"Uh..." He pronounced lamely, trying to push the girl off him gently. It didn't work, she only held on tighter. "I don't speak...whatever...Do you speak English?"

The girl paused, glaring at him fiercely as she collected her thoughts. "Brother. Where is big brother?" She said it angrily, as if demanding the information she was certain he would possess.

Alfred blinked, not really knowing how to deal with this situation. "Uh...I don't know...? Um...What does he look like?" How was he suppose to know who her brother was with so little information? Ok, he was pretty sure he understood the situation now.

Screechy, Booberella and She-Man were looking for their brother who'd been separated in the confusion of the airport. They didn't seem to be the best at English so he could assume Big Brother wasn't that great either. So, to be the hero, he deduced, all he had to do was find Big Brother for them. No problem!

"He is tall! And handsome!" Screechy described easily...which didn't help at all. He looked over to She-Man for some help since he seemed to be the one who spoke the best English. He hadn't been paying attention at all. Great. Just great. Maybe he shouldn't have come over to help...Airport security was still watching them warily.

"Uh? Mister...Little help?" Alfred asked, because he didn't think the guy would approve of his code name of She-Man. He still did not know any of the names of the trio, but, personally, his nicknames were probably ten times better anyway. The blond man turned around boredly.

"Feliks. My name is Feliks. Now don't listen to her. We're not looking for her bro. He isn't even like here. We're looking for Liet."

Alfred was even more confused then before. So...maybe his analysis of the situation was wrong. "OK...Who's Liet? What does he look like?"

The blond man rolled his eyes, as if Alfred's questions were the dumbest he'd ever heard. It was like he assumed everyone knew about this 'Liet' guy. What an asshole. "He's like our friend. He's tall. And handsome."

Alfred inwardly groaned. These people...How could they not describe someone? It was easy! He wanted to hit his head against the wall. How was he suppose to help if he didn't know what to look for?

He must have looked that way because a soft hand touched his arm. He looked up to see Booberella's fragile face smiling sweetly at him. The face seemed oddly familiar...It made him relax and smile back.

"He is..." She spoke with a thick accent, hesitant. She frowned, nibbling at her lip as she tried to reformulate her thoughts. She took a step back pointing at her hair, "B-brown?" She was unsure of her word choice but Alfred's eager nod made her a bit less nervous. Finally some actual useful information!

She moved her hand to around her shoulder. "Long h-hair?" Alfred nodded again, beginning to grin. Finally, they were getting somewhere!

But at that moment, the nice girl was torn away from him by the youngest, Screechy. He blinked in surprise as the girl glared at him. "No! Big brother! Big brother first!"

He tried to take a step back but the girl clung tight. "Uh..." This was getting kind of weird, and awkward and just a little bit frightening.

"Natalia...Natalia!" Booberella tried to calm tugging at her other arm. The rest of the words were in another language.

Natalia.

Natalia.

There was something important about the name Natalia...But what?

"Katyusha, can't you like calm your sister ever?" Feliks sighed, rolling his eyes and continuing to look around. He said it in English, regardless of the fact the woman barely understood the language.

Katyusha.

Natalia.

Katyusha.

Natalia.

He knew these names. He knew them. Why was he blanking? Why couldn't he place them?

"Ivan! I want Ivan! Big brother!" Natalia screeched at him and everything fell into place.

His blue eyes widened and he froze in utter shock. "Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. _Oh my God!_"

The two girls quieted, looking at him curiously. "You're...You're Katyusha and Natalia...Oh my God...Oh my God!" And suddenly, he laughed and laughed. At that point the pair were staring at him oddly. But he could care less because it was them! And then he hugged them tightly which wasn't the best idea because Katyusha screamed and Natalia kicked him in the groin but whatever. He was ecstatic! Even as he writhed on the floor with Natalia shouting what he assumed to be Russia curses aimed at him and airport security taking a few steps closer in their direction.

"N-no! Wait please." He finally managed to get out, looking up at the two girls and Feliks. "I-I know Ivan! I know Ivan Braginsky!"

And the world quieted in that moment.

* * *

Arthur was at his wits end with worry. It had been three days without a word from Alfred. What if something had happened? What if he was hurt? What if..What if..

He couldn't bear to finish that question. And it wasn't just him. Ivan hadn't spoken since the first day. He just sat there in his own little world occasionally mumbling Russian.

Matthew was angry, and didn't want to speak to any of them. Especially Ivan for some reason. In fact his feelings to their house guest were erratic at best. One moment he was terrified of the boy, the next his face would soften to show pity. Arthur couldn't make sense of it.

And Francis...Francis was as much a mess as he was.

He was jittery, and jumpy and quick to anger. He didn't cook. They'd had takeout the past few nights. He'd caught him trying to buy a pack of cigarettes earlier which had lead to another huge argument between the two.

Their relationship was strained as it was, they didn't need anymore arguments. Arthur had barely even spoken with his husband the last three days other than to ask if he'd found Alfred or to argue with him. It was all just beginning to be too much.

They barely slept in the same bed. Both were at the very edge of their respective side. And the bed was just for sleeping at the moment. He could feel them drifting further and further apart when all he wanted to do was cling to him for support.

Arthur sighed, rubbing at his tired eyes. He would call the police. He would call the police as soon as Francis and Matthew got home. And only if they came home by themselves.

* * *

"Ivan?" The two girls shouted out, springing forward quickly. Natalia gripped him tightly once more, desperately. Alfred laughed again, feeling giddy. He was so happy. Like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He'd done it. He'd actually done it. He'd found them. Everything was falling into place.

Everything would work out.

"Come on! I'll take you guys to him! He's staying at my house!" Or at least he was before. He wasn't sure if he was still there but it be easy to find him. That wasn't important. He just had to make sure the sisters didn't leave his sight. He would never forgive himself if he lost them now.

Speaking of the two, they were ecstatic, nodding eagerly and pushing him to the airport door. They all seemed to be giddy. Well, except for She-Man or Feliks or whatever. His face was contorted into display of distress.

"W-Wait! We need to find Liet! We can't just leave him here." Feliks spoke hurriedly, looking around wildly for the elusive brunette. He had no idea what was taking the man so long.

"No! Big brother now!" Natalia snapped, pushing the American teen harder to the door.

"You can wait here for your friend." Alfred said helpfully, disentangling himself in order to retrieve his stuff. Moments later he had Natalia clinging to him once more and Katyusha beside him. She was wiping away tears of happiness. She seemed to cry a lot. But, he couldn't really blame her. God, this was the sister his Ivan loved so dearly. The one who'd raised him, protected him. God he was just so happy he'd found them!

"I'm not leaving them like alone with some stranger! Who are you anyway?" The blond man snapped, hurrying toward them. Seriously, like what ever happened to stranger danger? Duh.

"Oh! Sorry. I'm Alfred! Alfred F. Bonnefoy!" He introduced, grinning wildly. Feliks huffed, not seeming very impressed but followed the others anyway. There seemed to be no stopping the sisters... Liet wasn't going to be too happy about this. He pulled his cell out deciding to text Liet about the sudden change of plans. '_Like, we're catching a ride w/ some dude. C u soon.'_

With that he found himself in the front seat of the guy's car, the two ladies in the back. And in moments they were out on the open road. He stared out at the streets of the United States of America, bored.

Natalia bounced in her seat, her thirteen year old body aching to get to wherever they were going and see her dear brother again. She'd missed him terribly in their months apart. She needed her Big Brother by her side. She loved him so. It had been so lonely in the orphanage without him.

Katyusha was much more calm in her seat as she looked out the window in wonder. She'd made it to America by some divine miracle and she would finally see her little brother once more. Soon they would be together, their little family would be reunited once more. It had been too long, four years too long.

Toris stood in the airport, alone and frazzled. He'd lost them. He had no idea how they'd been separated at baggage. Now he found himself alone, with four huge suitcases (three of them pink, filled with Feliks' things) and only his two hands to lug it all. Worst, Katyusha and Natalia knew nothing of America and Feliks wasn't the best guide.

He groaned, rubbing his temples and pulling his cell out just as it vibrated. Good. A text from Feliks, probably telling him where they were.

_Like, we're catching a ride w/ some dude. C u soon_

Toris' eye twitched. This couldn't be happening. Feliks did not just get into the car of some random stranger. What if they were being kidnapped? What if...

He shook himself, quickly typing up his own response. _Who? Where are you going?_

The response came a few seconds later, _We're going to like his place._

Toris was losing his patience, worry mounting within him. _Give me an address._

But Feliks didn't respond after that and the brunette was left to hyperventilate in the airport by himself.

Matthew drove around, frazzled and frustrated. His mind had not settled down since that phone call. Ivan had killed people. It was so...so absurd, so foreign, so _unreal_. How could he be going to the same school as a murderer? Be in some of the same classes? Have dinner with him? Have his brother date him?

And worse. His brother had _known. He'd willingly dated a murderer._

It just didn't make sense. Not one lick of sense. And even knowing this, he continued to live under the same roof as the murderer. Was he as crazy as his brother in that respect?

It was just...It was so normal. Ivan had become a part of their household with his frequent visits. And even if he wasn't there Alfred was bound to be talking about him in one way or another. He'd come to like Ivan, even though he was a bit on the odd side. His brother was happy with him and his brother's happiness was his own happiness.

But now. Now was different. Ivan had killed people. And he was still living in his home. Worse he couldn't tell his parents about it. And he couldn't exactly confront Ivan about it. What if he was killed? What if Ivan hurt him because he knew? And if he acted any different it would inspire suspicion amongst his parents and he'd be forced to tell.

He didn't think his parents could deal with anymore stress before breaking apart.

No, he would focus on finding Alfred. And once they had him back he'd get him to confess it all to Dad and Papa. And if he still refused then he'd have to tell them himself. Promise or no promise they needed to know. Ivan needed help.

For now he just needed to wait. Wait until his brother returned or phoned once more.

He let out a heavy sigh, turning left at the next light and keeping his eyes peeled for any sight of his runaway brother. When he came home, after making sure he was alright, he was going to beat his ass with his hockey stick. That was for sure.

He jumped when his cell rang. He grappled for it quickly, hope blossoming in his chest that it was Alfred on the other line. "Hello?"

"Matt! Jeez, I've been trying to get a hold of you for days!"

Matthew groaned, "Gil, I can't talk. I need to keep the line open."

"But we haven't spoken in forever! Come on! I'm more important than whatever you're out there doing!"

Matthew was frustrated, tired, and just done. Done with everyone and everything. "Gil. Al's missing and my twin's safety is more important than you being bored. Bye." And he hung up.

Only after he'd done so did he feel the beginnings of guilt weigh down in his stomach. Gilbert had nothing to do with any of this. He shouldn't have been so short. He didn't know what was happening. But he was stressed, he just needed to be left alone.

He pressed his forehead against the steering wheel during the red light, groaning. He was a horrible boyfriend. He should call back and apologize. But what if Al called while he was talking to Gil? He needed the line open. He could always text Gilbert, but that would mean pulling over which would force him to lose valuable time in his search (Matthew absolutely refused to text while driving. Having his father almost die in a car accident made him quite sensitive about those sorts of things).

His phone rang again and he grabbed it, flipping it open, "Gil, I'm sorry. I'm just really stressed right now and I-"

"I'm not your boyfriend Mattie." Came the reply, followed by a loud obnoxious laugh. Matthew blinked several times, shocked. He froze until a car horn blared and he remembered himself. He drove through the green light, pulling over as quickly as possible. And all the while he spoke hurriedly, "Alfred? Alfred oh my God! Where have you been? You need to come home! Do you have any idea-"

"I'm on my way home, stop worrying." He assured, his voice carefree and distracted. It annoyed the hell out of the younger twin.

"What do you mean stop worrying? Have you any idea what we've-"  
"Look, chew me out when I get home. I just wanted to warn you guys. Oh, and I'm bringing a surprise. Is you-know-who still at our place?"

Matthew gritted his teeth at his brother's nonchalance after disappearing for so long. He blinked at his last question, "Who? You mean Ivan?"

"Shh, not so loud! She'll have another freakout if she hears you." He said it almost to himself and Matthew had no idea what the sentence actually meant. "So, is he still home?"

"Yeah...He's still there...Why?" Matthew asked though he really didn't care. He'd much rather be interrogating his idiot of a brother who put him through so much worry and-

"Awesome! You'll see. Got to go. Bye!"

And just like that, Alfred had hung up. Matthew brought his fist down on the dashboard in frustration. He was going to interrogate his idiot of a brother the minute he got home. After hugging him of course. Because even though he was absolutely furious, he was still extremely relieved that finally, _finally_ his brother was coming home.

* * *

Silence reigned in the once vibrant household. Arthur sat on his arm chair, working on a customer's order. He sewed halfheartedly, his mind elsewhere as his needle pierced the fabric mechanically. His cell phone rested on the table beside him, at a ready distance in case his husband or his son called with good news.

Curled up on the couch nearby was Ivan. He was reading one of his school books, his mind also in the clouds. He'd buried most of his face in his scarf so that only his eyes were actually, clearly visible. He'd been rereading the same sentence for the past half hour. All he could think of was Alfred. If he hated him, if he was safe, if he knew how much he missed him.

Sometimes he would be consumed with anger when he would remember the entire ordeal in detail. Sometimes he would simply lie on the guest bed and bury his head in the pillow wishing for everything to just go away. But, usually that would only cause his father's eyes to peer back at him in the darkness.

Ivan found himself living two nightmares at once. And it was wearing him down considerably.

Worst of all, there was no one to turn to. Matvey had been cold to him as of late, barely even sparing a word to him. Not that he could blame him, he had tried to kill his father. He deserved the treatment. Alfred's French father, similarly, kept his distance, glaring at him ever so often.

The only person who did actually acknowledge him was, surprisingly, Alfred's English father. And it didn't make any sense to him. He could see, clearly see, the bruises he'd left on the man's neck and yet there was no anger left in Arthur toward's him. There was only sadness and concern for his lost son. And also regret.

Regret. It seemed to consume the British man wherever he went, weighing him down with every step. It was as if the regret _forced_ him to act cordial with Ivan. He would find him when Ivan was having one of his angry fits and snap him out of it with harsh, yet almost fatherly words. When he found him in his own little world in the corner he would occasionally approach him but say nothing.

It was odd and Ivan didn't quite understand it. But it was the closest fatherly relationship he'd ever experienced and so he did not question it. Nor did he pursue to enhance it or anything. He had no idea how he was suppose to act with him so instead of ruining it by accident he merely did nothing.

The door bell rang.

Arthur grumbled, putting his sewing aside in order to get up. "Damn frog...always forgetting his keys..." He muttered under his breath before leaving the family room and padding toward the front door. Ivan barely reacted, merely flipping to the next page of his book.

Arthur unlocked the door with a click and opened it up. He was met with a ghost.

At first he had no idea how to react. He simply stared. He stared at the young boy with the dirty blond hair and rebellious cow lick. The young boy with the bright blue eyes and shining smile. The young boy who was taller than he was now. The young boy he once held in his arms so easily. The young boy who had run away from him not once, but twice.

Arthur stared into the young boy's eyes in utter disbelief.

The young boy, for his part, was looking at him with a nervous grin as he fidgeted on the front step. "Uh, hey Dad! I'm home..."

And Arthur finally did react. He sprang forward and wrapped him in the strongest hug he'd ever given, absolutely clinging to his lost son. "Alfred. Alfred, oh god Alfred. You're home. You're here. Oh God, my little Alfred's finally home."

And Arthur cried while hugging his son and didn't give a damn if anyone saw because his little baby boy was home.

* * *

I KNOW I'M A BAD AUTHOR OTL

IM SO SO SO SO SO SORRY

Anyway, enough about me. THANK YOU SO MUCH, KIND READERS FOR YOUR REVIEWS. They really do make my day, especially during these hard times. Hopefully things will get better, i know second semester will be easier. HOPEFULLY THIS STORY WILL BE FINISHED BY THEN. I'm foreseeing maybe three chapters left. Yep. We're that close!

Anyways, I hate this chapter. But i hate everything right now so i guess its ok. IT'S SO SHORT I'M A FAILURE /sobs

HOPEFULLY I CAN UPDATE MORE REGULARLY SOON. No promises. Life is hard right now.

BUT I WILL NEVER _**NEVER**_ ABANDON THIS STORY. So don't worry your pretty little heads about it. See you soon my lovelies~

EDIT: I felt it was too short so I added a little extra at the end. :T  
Enjoy~


	46. Chapter 45

Alfred tensed as he was embraced so readily, so desperately, so easily by his stern father. It filled him with such warmth. His happiness, though, left him as he heard his father's words and he felt his heart ache considerably. Shit, he really had screwed up this time.

The minute he saw his Dad crying, his strong, strict Dad, he couldn't help it. He cried too. And without another thought he wrapped his arms just as tightly around his Dad and did what he should have done three days before.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so so sorry. Are you ok? Does it hurt? I was so scared, and worried and I love you Dad. I love you so much. And I'm sorry!" He whispered insistently, knowing it was too little too late. Still, he hoped it would make a difference. Shit, shit, shit how could he have just left? Why didn't he come back sooner! Shit, he was horrible.

Arthur didn't answer him yet, instead, he hugged him even tighter, bringing him closer to his chest. He just wanted to make sure he was really there. He just wanted to hold his baby again. He didn't want to ever let go. He did, though, intend to respond but fate apparently didn't agree with him and his lost son was suddenly ripped away from him.

Alfred let out a surprised yelp as he was wrenched away by a surprisingly strong little girl. He furiously wiped at his eyes. He'd almost forgotten about the entourage he'd brought with him! Shit. They didn't need to see him and his dad having some emotional bonding! That was a little embarrassing...whatever.

Arthur, though, glared at the girl. He just got his son back, no way was he letting him go so soon. And who the hell was she anyway? In fact, who the bloody hell were these people? In fact, he was just about to ask when, once again, the girl stole his son's attention.

"Big Brother! Where is Big Brother!" She demanded angrily, pulling Alfred down by his collar with her small clenched fists. She was quite the intimidating pre-teen. "You said he vas here!"

Alfred gave her a nervous smile, "H-He is. Please let go will ya, Nat? I'll get him right now!" He assured quickly, trying to pry her hands off his shirt. Shit, she was gonna tear it! And this was like his third favorite shirt too!

Natalia glared at him but released him all the same. Only because he said he'd get Big Brother. Alfred breathed a sigh of relief, ready to enter his house and find Ivan. His boyfriend...a sudden wave of anxiety washed over him at the thought. He hadn't even talked to the big guy since forever! Especially after what he did...

"Alfred...what's going on?" Arthur asked, eyeing his son suspiciously. Alfred grinned at him sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, a nervous habit of his.

"..I'll explain everything later! Let me just get Ivan real quick!" He replied quickly, adding a nervous chuckle at the end before hurrying past his father and into the house. Arthur huffed but he wasn't angry. He was so relieved, so thankful, so happy. His baby was safe and home. He blinked when the girl, obviously fed up, pushed her way past him as well. How rude.

An older lady approached him much more timidly. He reddened at the sight of her bre—face. She bit her lip, trying to collect her words, became distressed, then gave up and simply hurried inside as well. It was perplexing at best. And then the third lady simply pushed past him without a glance, rapidly pressing buttons on her phone.

What a bunch of bloody arses. Arthur grimaced, sighing to himself before closing the door. He wanted to sit Alfred down and talk to him, and hold him, and revel in his presence. Oh! He needed to phone Francis! The man had no idea! With that in mind he left the strange group meandering in the hall to hurry toward the phone.

Alfred for his part hurried into the house, fidgeting a little because he hadn't spoken to his boyfriend since the incident. He wondered if Ivan would be pissed or would break up with him or both. But he couldn't! He'd found his sisters!

He was beginning to wonder why Ivan hadn't searched him out (because surely he'd heard him by now?) but he found his answer soon enough. He stepped into the family room, finding Ivan reading some book. Though, on closer inspection, it didn't seem like he was actually reading it. His violet eyes were glazed, staring at the wall without actually seeing anything. Alfred knew he was lost in his own little world from experience. He sighed, coming closer and smiling down at the big guy.

He really had missed him, he seemed almost like a little kid still. A frightened little kid with no one to turn to. He wanted to stroke the soft pale blond hair softly for a moment but then he remembered he was on a time crunch. Instead, he poked the Russian's nose.

The body below tensed, violet eyes jerking to look up at him.

"Hey big guy! Look I got som-"

Ivan fell off the couch with a shout. Alfred almost wanted to burst out laughing until he saw his boyfriend's face. He was shocked, eyes wide and mouth open, and he was shaking. He seemed to back away a little, apparently a little frightened.

"...Alfred?" Ivan asked in disbelief, because it _couldn't _be true. No. He was hallucinating or imagining or something. He'd just been imagining his father and suddenly Alfred was here. No his mind was playing tricks on him again, forever tormenting him. Why couldn't he just be left alone?

"Yep it's me! Don't worry man, I'm back and I'm here to stay!" Alfred said cheerfully, holding his hand out to help the tall student up and hopefully break him out of his little world. Ivan stared at the hand and took it hesitantly. The minute he felt the others strong, _real_ grip he knew it was true. Alfred was back. Alfred didn't hate him. Alfred still cared for him.

Without another thought Ivan pulled the American down to his level with a quick, powerful tug. Alfred yelped in surprise, falling forward and landing on top of the Russian. Before he could even blink he was being bear hugged. He relaxed into the embrace, laughing lightly at the desperation of the action.

"Alfred...Мой дорогой Alfred." He whispered into the bright blond hair. Alfred blushed a little, not really understanding what he was saying but recognizing doro-something as meaning 'dear'. He pulled away a little from the crushing hug to kiss Ivan on the lips quickly. Oh god how he had missed doing that!

"Don't worry. Everything's gonna be ok now." He assured softly, smiling reassuringly all the while. Ivan stared at him unconvinced and refused to let him go. In fact, they probably would have staid like that together for hours if they weren't rudely separated.

Alfred felt a sense of deja vu as he was violently yanked away from his boyfriend and practically tossed away. He hit the floor with a groan. Shit that girl was strong. Natalia (who he assumed correctly to be the perpetrator) stood over Ivan with wide, disbelieving eyes—much like Ivan's own a few moments earlier.

Alfred held his breath as the two siblings stared at each other in shock and said nothing. He waited and yet they did not dare move or speak or anything. "Er...Ivan...I found your sisters." Alfred broke the awkward silence bluntly as per usual and waited for the response.

Ivan continued to stare at the ghost, sitting up ever so slightly. Finally, _finally_ his mouth seemed to work and he tried to form words. "Natalia...Natalia is it you?" He whispered as if saying it louder might shatter this weird, wonderful dream.

Natalia stared at him and the usual scowl melted from her face, replaced with a trembling frown. Her eyes watered and she flung herself onto her lost brother, clinging to him desperately as if they'd separate them once more if she even thought of letting go. "Большой Брат! Иван, как я скучал по тебе! Никогда не оставляйте меня!" (_Big Brother! Ivan how I've missed you! Never leave me again!_)

Ivan tensed at the hug before relaxing in his little sister's embrace and holding her close. He whispered comforting words into her ear in Russian. It was completely lost on Alfred what he said but it didn't really matter.

He felt odd and out of place as the pair quickly began speaking hurried Russian together, most likely in order to catch up. Nibbling on his bottom lip, he quickly got up off the ground to leave the room. He didn't want to intrude on their little reunion. He winced, shit, falling to the ground was not the greatest thing for one's tail bone. He left the room without a word and entered the kitchen.

* * *

Arthur was making tea, staring at the two other intruders in his home meandering about his kitchen. They hadn't introduced themselves or explained their presence and their rude behavior was getting on his frazzled nerves. The only time they had spoken was when the vibrant blond (who was in fact male) asked for his address to give to his friend a few seconds prior.

When Alfred entered, Arthur straightened up and tried to resist the urge to hug his son to death once more. Later, he reminded himself. His renewed presence made him open his cell and attempt calling Francis once more. For some reason the man wasn't answering and it was pissing him off to no end. He needed to know their son was safe and sound! Damn, Frenchman

"Kat? Why are you still here and not with Ivan?" Alfred asked suddenly, staring at the fidgeting woman who was close to tears already. Shouldn't she have run in and hugged Ivan as well?

She wrung her hands together, looking at the ground and trembled slightly. Then, she looked over at Feliks, prodded his shoulder and gave him a pleading look. With an annoyed sigh, the man put his cell away mid text, and looked at her.

Katyusha gave him a grateful smile before speaking in hurried Russian. The man nodded as she finished and glanced over at Alfred. "She's like nervous about seein' him and stuff. Like, she left him for like 4 years or something and he could totally resent her guts by now." He translated halfheartedly.

Alfred blinked, "That's not true! He loves her! He's kept that scarf and he's always talkin' about her! She's gotta go see him!" The American insisted.

The Polish man translated once more and Katyusha began to cry. The man sighed, rubbing the distraught women's back and whispering a few words to her in her native tongue. Alfred felt a little uncomfortable. He wasn't really sure what to do with them all. Luckily, someone else acted before him.

Ivan poked his head into the kitchen, Natalia clutching him at his side.

" I heard cry—"

Katyusha lifter her head and stared at her baby brother. Her little baby brother. Her little baby brother who was now taller than she was. And she sobbed harder, unsure how to approach him. She wanted to hold him but her legs refused to obey her mind and she remained rooted to the spot.

"K-Katyusha..." Ivan whispered, eyes wide as his hands shot up to touch his worn and aging scarf.

And suddenly it didn't matter if Katyusha couldn't move from where she stood because Ivan had took the initiative and hugged her.

Alfred grinned at the reunited trio, feeling a warmth spread throughout his chest. He wasn't gonna fucking cry though. Nope. Not him. He was a man. Men don't cry because of feelings.

He tensed when he felt a hand clasp his shoulder and give him a squeeze. He turned around to see his father smiling at him softly.

"So was this what you were up too for so long?" Arthur asked quietly so as not to disturb the reunion—or at least that's what he assumed it was.

Alfred smiled sheepishly, "Sort of...I'm sorry Dad...for everything."

Arthur looked at him, smiled and squeezed his shoulder once more. "I'm proud of you." He said softly, with such an intense loving look in his emerald eyes.

And Alfred did cry because the statement was so out of the blue, and it seemed so honest, and fuck he craved those words every day and it was all just too much.

And Alfred clung to his father for the second time that day.

* * *

Toris paced nervously, back and forth in the airport lobby as he impatiently waited for Feliks' text. Where could they have gone? How could they have just disappeared with some stranger? How could they be so irresponsible?

He'd have to call the police! File a missing person's report! Something! He couldn't simply just stand here, pacing until he received another message from Feliks. If he ever did since his blond friend was being unusually silent. It was so unnerving!

He fidgeted in his worry, his eyes darting about the airport for the foreign trio in a vain attempt to locate them. Though he knew they were no longer in the building. However, he did spot a uniformed man. Airport security! Maybe they had seen them? Or something? It was a hope!

He glanced at his bags deciding not to risk them being confiscated if he left them unattended and dragged them over with him. He prodded the taller, more muscular man and waited nervously for him to stop speaking on his walkie talkie.

"Can I help you?" The man asked, looking down at him as he put the device in its holster.

"Er...Yes. I seem to have lost my friends..."

"Go to the main desk. They'll make an announcement for them to meet you there." The man replied quickly, annoyed at the simple request. He was much too busy for such trivial matters.

"N-No, you see...Uh, well, they aren't here anymore. My friend texted me that they got into the car with some strangers! They're foreigners and I'm worried and my friend hasn't texted me back nor told me any actual information on this stranger and I was hoping that maybe one of the security guards had seen them?" Toris asked in a hurried spill of language, the words bumping and melting against each other in his nervousness.

The security guard raised an eyebrow, lifting up his walkie talkie thing once more and speaking into the device. He paused a moment to ask for a description of his friends which Toris dutifully gave as best as possible.

There was a crackle on the device and a response, "Yeah, there was a bit of a commotion with a trio who sounds like that. Some young man, probably around 17 or 18 came up to them. They seemed to recognize him after a while and they all followed him out."

"Wh-What did he look like?" Toris asked quickly.  
"Blond, tallish kid. He had glasses, couldn't get details from where I stood."

"Oh...Oh thank God." Toris breathed out, feeling relief well into him. The description was bad best but for some reason, he just knew it was him. The guard gave him a look and so the Lithuanian decided to hurriedly explain, "That sounds like a close friend of mine. I can just call him and confirm it and it should be ok."

He pulled out his phone as he spoke, ready to call when he felt it vibrate already. He looked down, seeing he had received a text from no other than Feliks. Well thank God!

He opened the message up and stared at the address. His suspicions had been confirmed.

"Err, thank you again! Everything's alright!" He thanked the man before scurrying off, dragging his baggage behind him with difficulty.

* * *

Francis sighed, tiredly trekking home after his long search for his son. He hadn't found him. Again. He was getting too old for these long searches on foot but he had little choice, Alfred had taken the other car and it was Matthieu's turn to search by vehicle.

If only his cell hadn't died mid search, then he could have called Matthieu to come pick him up. He groaned, wondering if he even wanted to go home so soon. Home meant a cloud of depression being pressed upon his very soul. It meant a devastated, angry Arthur, a quiet yet explosive Matthieu and a would be murderer.

He sighed once more, slowing down his steps. He'd taken a bus into the city and searched the area as thoroughly as he could for all the morning and most of the afternoon. Still, he had found nothing. The bus had returned him to the outskirts of his neighborhood and now he had quite the walk to partake in to reach home.

He tensed as a relatively silent afternoon was broken by the roar of a speeding vehicle. His once injured leg quivered underneath him and he quickly moved farther away from the road in a sudden panic. The car whizzed by and he cursed at them in colorful French. Really, this was a neighborhood with children around. They should be slower, who knows who they could hurt! He remembered the one time Alfred had almost been run over while playing in the street. If Arthur hadn't grabbed him at the nick of time who knew what could have occurred.

He blinked when the car suddenly stopped a few yards away from him and started to back up. Francis' heart accelerated slightly. Mon Dieu, had they heard him curse? Had they understood? Were they going to hurt him? In plain daylight no less! Non, they couldn't do that in such a nice neighborhood as this...right?

The car stopped beside him once more and the door burst open. Relief pooled in Francis' stomach as he recognized his son practically fall out of the vehicle and run toward him. He felt a bit stupid for not recognizing his own car but no matter.

His anxiety resurfaced once more at Matthew's desperation to reach him. "Matthieu? Qu'est qu'il y a?" (_What is the matter?)_ He asked softly, worriedly.

"Papa! Papa he's coming back! He's coming back! He called me! He might be home already! We gotta hurry!" Matthew informed quickly, grabbing his father's hand before he could truly digest the information and dragged him toward the car.

Francis soon realized the meaning of the message and jumped into the vehicle. Forgetting his prior concerns, he urged his son to speed the rest of the way home in a hurry. Matthew didn't need to be told twice as he gripped the steering wheel tightly and recounted the odd conversation he had earlier with his brother.

Oh Dieu did Francis hope that Alfred was finally home safe and sound.

* * *

"Perhaps we should leave them be?" Arthur asked, glancing at the family reunion occurring in his kitchen. Alfred smiled and nodded after a moment. He had wanted to stick around and eaves drop but they were all speaking Russian so it was really no use. He'd have to interrogate Ivan about it later.

Arthur pushed his son toward the door to the family room and the two continued on their way until they sat themselves down on the couch. Alfred fidgeted in his seat, his father was giving out that 'we need to talk' aura around him. Oh shit. He was in trouble.

"Alfred...I.." Arthur faltered, "I understand why you left. I was harsh and demanding and unreasonable. But...why did it take so long, for you to come back? Or to even...to even talk to us?"

Alfred looked away, chewing at his lip. He could see the bruises on his father's neck and the guilt ate at him from the inside out. Still, he wanted to defend himself at least somewhat, "I...I was only gone like three days..." He tried.

"It didn't feel that way. For any of us."

Alfred felt even worse. "I had to...I had to fix everything and be a hero! I had to save Ivan! And I've figured everything out!"

"Save Ivan from what?"  
Alfred fell silent, looking away, "Nothing. Never mind."

Arthur furrowed his thick brows, "Don't lie to me, boy."

Alfred remained quiet, feeling his father's stare grow in intensity. Shit, shit, shit he was so screwed! Luckily for him, they heard the door slam open and it distracted his Dad from mauling him for information.

"Who could—" Arthur muttered when his question was quickly answered as a young teenager barreled in the room.

"Al!" Matthew shouted, grabbing his brother and hugging him tightly. Alfred blinked but quickly reciprocated the hug, grinning from ear to ear. Of course that soon stopped the minute they pulled apart.

"You fucking idiot!" The usually soft spoken twin snapped, slapping him for good measure. Alfred blinked, though the slap was relatively weak it was still shocking.

"What? What did I do?" He defended quickly, cupping his face. He glared at his brother, dude needed to chill. He was home wasn't he?

"What did you do? What did you do! YOU LEFT. Do you have any idea how worried we were? How can you be so damn selfish all the time! Papa and Dad were at each others throats because of you! And worst! You left us with that—that murd—" Matthew's rant was short lived as Alfred covered his mouth quickly.

"Shut up, bro!" He warned, gritting his teeth and hoping his father hadn't caught that. Mathew continued to send him a glare, prying the hand away from his face. He was about to continue too when Francis finally made his presence known.

"Alfred."

Alfred blinked, looking up at his French father. He wondered if he was still mad at him, still disappointed in him.

"Papa...I...I'm sorry I..."

"Ne parle plus." (Don't say anything else) Francis smiled softly, coming closer and gathering him into his arms. Alfred visibly relaxed into the embrace. "I'm just happy you are home."

And Alfred was happy to be home as well. And he'd fixed everything too! Finally he could have a nice relaxing life. Ivan had his family, he had his own. Everything was gonna be ok.

"Al. You need to tell them. Right now."

Of course his twin just had to ruin everything.

Arthur and Francis looked at each other before staring sternly at their son, "Tell us what, Alfred?" Arthur asked slowly, suspiciously.

Shit. His twin just _had _to ruin everything.

* * *

**I feel like I start every AN with an apology.**

**AND THIS ONE IS NO DIFFERENT.**

**I know i'm horrible. I am very sorry but I'm just so fricken busy.**

**Anyway, i hope you enjoy this chapter. It probs sucks. AND IT'S SO SHORT WHYYYYY *cries***

**Anyways, chapters will become more frequent once second semester rolls in, I promise!**

**Thank you for all your lovely reviews and I hope to see you again soon!**

**MY LOVE FOR YOU GUYS IS UNDYING.**


	47. Chapter 46

Alfred gulped, taking a step back from his hovering family. This was not good. He did not want to ruin his reunion, nor Ivan's reunion for that matter, by telling his parents that Ivan kind of sort of killed two people. It just wouldn't end well. Couldn't Mattie have given him a bit more time? Why did he tell him in the first place! Damn it. He had to distract them...with something.

"Well, Alfred? Tell us what?" Arthur repeated, his large eyebrows drawing together. Shit Alfred needed to think fast. But what? What should he say? This would be a great time for the doorbell to ring, or the phone or like the house to catch fire. Anything to distract them! But shit his parents were getting more annoyed and skeptical by the second. It was now or never!

"Well...Well you see, while I was gone...I...I told Mattie I got Ivan a psychiatrist! Yeah, see Ivan's got some borderline mental problems especially with violence. Must be something to do with his childhood but I don't know about that 'cause he won't tell me anything. Yeah. Anyway, while I was out I met this guy. His name is really hard to pronounce but I have his card and he's like a psychiatrist and I'm sure he'll take on Ivan as a client and stuff. And then he'll fix him up easy peasy and we can all be happy again!" Alfred spouted out in a tumbling mess of lies and truths. Matthew was glaring at him but his parents seemed to be buying it. His fricken twin better not ruin this again.

Sure, he knew why Mattie wanted him to tell them. He'd have to at some point but couldn't he give him a day back home? He leveled his bro a stern look, _just let me have this for right now._ Matthew returned it evenly, narrowing his eyes at him, _We're not done with this. We're talking later, got that?_ Alfred rolled his eyes and gave him an almost imperceptible nod, _Yeah fine ok whatever._ That seemed to please his brother 'cause he broke eye contact. The whole conversation happened in a few seconds with their parents none the wiser. Being a twin had its perks.

"Alfred... How do you even know Ivan will agree to this little scheme of yours?" Arthur brought up, bringing Alfred back to the current conversation, "What if he just lashes out at you!"

"He won't do that." The teenager defended, crossing his arms.

"Regarde, I had to let him back into this house because Toris wasn't home. But he returns today and so I don't want the monster here any longer, alright?" Francis quickly stuck in, the anger inside him flaring up for a second.

"But Papa, I'm helping him!"

"I don't want you seeing him!"

"Francis...Francis the boy hasn't done anything since then... Maybe we should give him another chance." Arthur vocalized lamely, only half convinced of his own idea.

"I don't want him in the house. Not anymore. Please." Matthew said suddenly, quietly but with a determination resounding in the statement.

"Mattie...Mattie you don't understand!" Alfred said quickly, looking at his brother earnestly for the support he always needed and almost always had.

"Al...Al he's dangerous! This is crazy! I can't believe..." The younger twin faltered, remembering the silent promise made seconds before of not revealing anything yet. Yet being the key word.

"Even Matthieu doesn't want him here!" Francis continued, aiming his argument at his husband. Alfred bit his lip, that meant his opinion was no longer valid in the argument. It was between his parents. Shit.

"...Francis, I..Honestly I whole heartedly agree with you...Or would have..But...Francis, there's something about that lad I've come to notice these past few days...He reminds me of the boys while in the old neighborhood." Everyone went still. "There is sadness around him and I feel...I feel Alfred is right. A psychiatrist might do him good, and it will only work if we support him. Alfred is his closest friend if not more. I say we let them be as long as Ivan goes to this man and as long as we see some improvement." The Brit turned toward his son, bringing him back into the conversation, "I want to meet this man first. Alright?"

Alfred gave him a quick eager nod before looking over at his papa. Please agree with Dad, please. He had too! Dad had made an awesome point!

The Frenchman let out a long, suffering sigh, "D'accord. But if he doesn't improve or harms any one of you, he is out." He added firmly.

"Fine. Now... Alfred, no more video games for the next three days." Arthur said sternly.

"What? Why?" Alfred protested, confused at the sudden punishment.

"Well, you can't just runoff for so long without any sort of punishment." Arthur reasoned, "Just let it go. You have schoolwork to make up for anyhow, I'm sure you won't have time for them anyway."

Alfred groaned, well this sucked. But whatever...he was still happy to be home. "Umm...are we done arguing?"

His parents blinked, "I suppose...why?" Arthur answered, giving him a perplexed look.

"'Cause..." He muttered, looking down at his feet and shuffling them slightly. He looked up and gave them a warm smile, "I kinda want another family hug..."

It didn't take long for the request to be filled.

Of course it was cut short by the doorbell. Oh now it rang, how come not before? Just his luck. Arthur disentangled himself from the hug, leaving the huddled family to go open the door for whoever it was that was there. There were already so many people in his house.

He left the family room, passing by the kitchen where he could still here excited Russian and that one girl crying. He decided to ignore them for now and let them have their moment, instead he continued on to the front door.

Only to find the blond man opening it. How rude! It wasn't even his home. In fact he was about to snap at him until he saw who he was letting in. "Toris!" He shouted in surprise, hurrying closer, "I thought you were coming later. We weren't expecting you. I do apologize for all the mess, we have a bunch of unexpe-"

He stopped because Toris wasn't listening to him. He was trying to get the hyper blond man who was now hugging him off him. Rude.

"Liet! Liet you found us! I was majorly bored here waiting." Feliks complained, hanging off the brunette while wearing a cute little pout. Seriously, he wanted to see Toris' house, not some kid's!

"Uhh...Yeah, umm Arthur! I'm so sorry about all this...They're my friends and I lost them at the airport but apparently Alfred was there and picked them up...? I don't know exactly what happened...Ivan!" Toris stammered out, slightly embarrassed at all the commotion he'd caused. But the whole argument halted at the sight of his ward looking at him full of shock and surprised. He had his younger sister clutching him around his waist and his elder sister close behind him.

The rest of the Bonnefoy family fluttered into the room curiously, and Francis and Matthew finally realized who the strangers in their home really were. Francis gasped with a certain recognition, "Are these Ivan's sisters Toris?" He asked, intrigued and looking toward the elder woman with a certain sadness. He moved toward her, remembering the details of her story. No matter how angry and hostile he was to her brother, he still felt horrible for how the world had treated. "La pauvre..." (The poor thing) He murmured, extending a hand out to her. Ivan sent him the darkest glare he'd ever seen and he quickly retracted it. Katyusha merely blinked confused, looking up at her brother for some sort of explanation. He gave her none.

"I think we all need a cup of tea." Arthur decided, pushing his way through into his kitchen.

* * *

"I'm too old to sit at the kid table." Alfred bemoaned quietly, leaning back on the sofa. His brother squirmed next to him uncomfortably.

"Then let's leave so that we can talk about this issue." Matthew hissed bitterly, giving a wary glance at Ivan who was sitting opposite of them talking with his sisters. They had been sequestered to the family room while the 'grown ups' aka Arthur, Francis, Toris and Feliks talked matters in the dining room over tea.

"No. Come on Mattie...Look, Ivan's done some bad shit but look how happy and sweet he looks now!" He defended, gazing over at the loving scene. Ivan was glowing with some new found warmth! It was great!

"That doesn't take away the fact that he's a murderer!" Matthew snapped, fed up with the nonchalance that Alfred espoused when broaching the subject. This was serious!

The room seemed to fall silent, and Matthew felt a chill run up his spine. He looked around to wear the Russian siblings stood, only to find Ivan looking intently at him. The violet gaze soon shifted toward Alfred.

"...You told Matvey." Ivan murmured slowly, in disbelief.

Alfred quickly stood up, "No-Now Ivan! Listen alright! I was really upset and confused about all this shit that was going down! And I'm going to have to tell them anyway!" He defended quickly, stepping over and keeping himself between his boyfriend and his brother, lest Ivan have a little violent episode. "He'd have to know eventually."

"...No...No one was to know. Only you..." Ivan mumbled, violet eyes flashing dangerously, "I trusted you. You have failed me." He growled, fists clenching. His elder sister looked alarmed at his sudden change in behavior. She looked over to her sister, who seemed bored and unflinching, hoping for an explanation. The younger had long gotten used to her elder brother's erratic behavior. She didn't bother translating the fight.

"I didn't fail you Ivan! Don't you get it? You need help!" Alfred shouted, not stepping down at the threatening tone.

"I have you!"

"I...I'm not enough! You still hurt people Ivan! I thought I was helping...But clearly I'm not!" Alfred's tone quieted, threading his fingers through his hair. "You need professional help."

"I have my sisters! Alfred, I will go to prison. You can not force me to do this." Ivan bit back angrily, the voices suddenly louder in his ears.

"No you wont! I talked to this psychiatrist...And...And it's gonna be ok!" Alfred assured quickly, even though he knew this wasn't working. He wanted to tell him when they were alone, ease him into the idea. Not like this.

"No. I refuse."

"Ivan..."

Matthew, stood up suddenly, pushing his brother away. "Ivan. Now you listen to me, ok?" He hissed out. "You killed people. _Killed_. You have issues. You have a lot of issues. And you need help. Not lovey dovey Alfred help, _real _help. And if you don't get that help, I'm not letting you near my brother! Don't you test me, Braginski!" He growled, jabbing a finger at his chest.

"..Matt..." Alfred breathed out in surprise, never seeing his brother take charge and be that aggressive over..anything.

Matthew, for his part, was doing his best not to quiver in fear and let the adrenaline rushing through his veins take charge for him. He wasn't going to let his brother get hurt. Alfred was always protective of him, and gosh darn it he could be too!

Ivan hid his surprise easily, his smirk growing in size and creepiness, before erupting in a cold empty laugh, "You amuse me, Matvey. And who says you could stop me?" He grabbed the shorter teen's wrist, pulling it away from his chest and squeezing it harshly. He saw Matthew aggressive stance falter, his face contorting in pain.

"Hey. Ivan! Stop that right now!" Alfred ordered, prying at the fingers on his brother's hand, "This is exactly what I'm fucking talking about! Stop hurting people! Don't make me break up with you!"

Ivan released him, whirling to face Alfred himself, "He tried to take you away from me. Why does everyone want to take you away from me? Your fathers, your brothers and now you yourself!" He tried to say it angrily but there was a hidden sadness repressed in his tone, "Why must everything I love be taken away from me? Why?" His voice raising, his eyes clouding in hysteria.

"Ivan..Ivan stop it your shouting! Look you need to calm down an-"

Ivan wrenched away from the soft touch on his arm the American gave him, backing away. "No...No. Everything. Everything I've ever loved.. It's always gone and it's _his _fault. You do not understand what it feels to have those lifeless eyes bore into you, haunt you your entire life! To hear those voices assuring you that you deserve this misery because you killed a man. Yes. Yes I killed him but I am not sorry. I am not sorry! I don't care if it's wrong! I am not sorry! They deserved to die! They deserved it! And I know I deserve to live in misery and pain, but just once-just this once! I thought I could have happiness!" He shouted at him, turning away and glaring at the wall, his whole body trembling from the outburst. He'd never admitted that to anyone but himself, never uttered it in English. The room remained silent.

"Ivan...Ivan you _can_ have happin-"

The Russian spun around once more, rushing toward him and grabbing Alfred's shoulders roughly, "You do not understand! The voices will never go away, those eyes will never leave, my fath-no. That _monster I slew _will always haunt me for the rest of my life, scrutinizing my every move and reminding me of my guilt!"

"I thought you said you weren't sorry!" Alfred countered, quickly.

"I am not! I hate that bastard of a man and am glad I bashed his head in with a pipe!" He screeched back, gripping the shoulders tighter until Alfred visibly grimaced from the pressure, "You will never understand!"

"Because you won't fucking let me understand! If you talk to this psychiatrist...Things will get better! They will!"

"Alfred-"

"Not now Mattie! Ivan please calm down, we'll fix this. We'll make the bad thoughts go away! I'm a hero remember? And sometimes heroes need help!"

"_Alfred-_"

"Not now Mattie! I'll even go with you to the meetings, I'll hold your hand, you don't even have to tell him about the murder until you find you trust him! It'll all work-"

"**_Alfred!_**"

"What Mattie! What do you wan-"

And Alfred's blood ran cold.

At the door was Arthur, Francis and Toris, all three pale as a sheet. How long had they been there? How much had they heard? Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

"Dad..Papa, it's—it's not what you think!" He quickly assured, breaking away from Ivan to go toward them.

"...Ivan is a murderer." Arthur breathed out in horror and disbelief. His hand shot up to touch his still healing neck, the reality of the entire situation weighing down on him heavily. "Dear God..."

"No! Dad! Please..you don't understand!"

"...I have to leave. Now." Ivan quickly muttered, still shaking completely. He pushed past the adults, his steps quickening until he burst into a full out run by the time he reached the door.

"Vanya!" Came the identical female cries of his two sisters, as they rushed out to follow him. Again, they met no resistance from the three adults.

"I...I'm gonna go follow..them." Toris replied, seeming disoriented and dizzy as he shakily left the room, gathering Feliks who was too busy surfing the net on his phone to bother with the situation.

* * *

He stared at the phone number for the umpteenth time with shaky unawesome hands. He'd called Matt over a hundred times in the past few days, only to get no response. He didn't even talk to him at school. He needed him right now. He really did. Still, Matt's words rang in his ears. _hat about Feli?_

"Gilly?"

Gilbert looked up, crumpling the note quickly in an effort to hide it. He plastered a false grin across his face, "What's up, Feli?" Just the man he was thinking about too...

The red head frowned, fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt, "I don't like it when you're upset Gilly...It makes the whole house dark." He mumbled, "Is there anything I can do to help? Would pasta make it better? Pasta always makes me feel better... I-I can even add wurst in it for you!...If you want." The man floundered with his words, looking like he was about to cry.

Gilbert smiled, a soft genuine smile. He was so stupid. So stupid. Here was Feli, worried about him, doing his best to cheer him up and help him (more so than his boyfriend, he added a little bitterly in his mind). How could he even have second thoughts?

He didn't need a mom. Especially a bitch awful mom who tried to kill him before he was born.

He had Feli.

"Pasta would be awesome."

He shredded the piece of paper without another thought, feeling liberated in a way.

* * *

The house fell silent and tense.

Francis broke it first, "I...I cant even...I need to cook something." He uttered, his mind whirling as he turned away, entering his kitchen distractedly.

Matthew looked between his brother and father, "I...I'm gonna help Papa." He decided, murmuring quietly to the point where he was certain his family hadn't even heard him. Not that he really wanted them too. Instead, he made his quick silent escape to the kitchen.

Alfred stood in the center of the empty room, Arthur remaining stock still in the doorway. No one moved. No one spoke. Nothing happened. It was worse than yelling in Alfred's mind.

Finally, _finally_, Arthur spoke. "How long."

"How long what?" Alfred responded, confused.

"Don't give me that!" Arthur shouted suddenly, making Alfred shrink back. Arthur continued undeterred, "How long have you known! How long did you willingly continue this relationship with such a dangerous individual!"

"I...Dad please try to understand! It wasn't his fault..It wasn't his fault! Being around me is helping him!" Alfred pleaded, "And I know that's not enough! I've contacted a psychiatrist, everything's gonna be ok please trust me! Please!" He added quickly, seeing his father's next point on the expression of his face.

Alfred expected more anger and arguments, but it seemed Arthur simply wilted before him. His shoulder's slumped, his arms came up to cover his face. For once Alfred didn't see the strong strict father he loved, instead he saw the frail man who didn't have any more answers.

"Alfred...Alfred." Was all the man could utter, sitting down into the arm chair. Alfred crept closer, alarmed by the sudden new behavior from his father. It worried him.

"Alfred... I just got you back...I just got you back." He whispered, threading his fingers through his hair, "Alfred, I just want you safe and happy. I don't want you seeing him, Alfred. Please don't yell, don't get angry, don't rush off and leave us again. Alfred, just listen to me for just this one. Really listen. " The older man begged, taking Francis approach to heart for the first time ever.

"I am listening Dad!" Alfred arguing, his worry mounting more and more.

"Alfred, this relationship with Ivan...It hasn't been healthy. It's lead you to run away from home twice! Please, please just look at it from my eyes for once? I know you...you like him but, but I just can't have you seeing him. Not when he's like this."

"But Dad-"

"Alfred! I'm serious!"

"I know you are! But just..Listen to me! Listen to me this time!" Alfred snapped back, using his words against him.

Arthur let out a tired a sigh, "I am."

"I won't see him anymore until he agrees to get help." Alfred conceded quietly, figuring it would be the only way to get Ivan to do it anyway. And he didn't think he could deal with the drama anymore.

"...I don't want you alone with him even then, alright? And I want to talk to this psychiatrist you've found. And I want frequent updates on his condition."

"Ok. Ok. Ok." Alfred agreed to each and every one of his demands, knowing there would be no point in fighting it.

They remained silent after that, pensive, tired and drained. Arthur sitting exhausted in his chair, leaning forward; Alfred standing before him, looking at the ground. Arthur spoke once more, "Alfred...I remember when you were so little...You were just a bit passed my knee...And you would cling to me and tell me how you would never leave home. Not even when you grew up." He smiled nostalgically, "You said, 'Daddy, I'm gonna stay with you and Papa forever. I'm gonna live here and never get married and have thirty pet dogs.'"

"Dad..."

"And I know...I know that could never be true. My baby would grow up and leave for college, get married and have his own life... I just didn't think it would happen so fast...Or that you would leave us twice before you had too." He confessed, looking down into his lap.

"Dad...Dad stop saying these things. Stop it."

Arthur gave out a dry laugh, "I sound so old... But I've been thinking. You're only here for another two years, and then you'll leave me...And...And I'm only making you wish to leave sooner." His voice faltered, "That's the last thing I ever wanted to convey, I hope you know that."

"Dad...Dad that isn't true! Please stop talking like this! Just 'cause I'm growing up doesn't mean I'm gonna leave you guys and never speak to you again! Dad I love you, please don't talk like this! Please!"

Arthur looked like he was going to say something more, but he was silenced when Alfred leaned down to hug him tightly, desperately. He even lifted him up out of his chair, holding him close and off the ground. "Dad don't talk like that!" He repeated, the plea muffled by his father's dampening sweater vest.

Arthur hugged him back, laughing lightly, "Look how much you've grown...Now you're picking me up..." He sighed, kissing the top of Alfred's head softly. He hadn't done that in a long time.

"Dad I'm sorry that I've mislead you...disappointed you.."

"Hush, boy. You could never do that."

* * *

FINALLY UPDATED BECAUSE IT'S FINALLY SECOND SEMESTER.

Crappy Chapter is crappy.

Also, this is the second to last chapter. But there will most likely also be an Epilogue.

Thanks for sticking with me this far! I hope to see ya guys soon! Reviews are always loved and adored~


	48. Chapter 47

Alfred took a deep breath. He knew he had to do this. That he had to do it as soon as possible too. However, that fact didn't make it any less difficult. This was all for the best. No matter how hard it would be to convince him, he knew it would be for the best.

He had waited long enough.

He exhaled, lifted his hand and rang the doorbell. He played with the card in his hand, flipping it over, smoothing his fingers across the face of it and feeling the difference in texture from where there were smooth words and where it was blank. He tapped his foot impatiently, wondering why it was taking so long for Ivan—or Toris even—to answer the door.

He hadn't seen his boyfriend in a few days now. Though his heart had begged him to go and see him and love him and kiss him after such a long period without him he couldn't bring himself to do it. He had also wanted to spend time with his family, the same family who didn't want him to go see his boyfriend anymore anyway. He sighed.

Even at school Ivan had been ignoring him.

Well, it would end today. They would talk this through and come to a decision, whatever it may be. Ivan would have to agree to see the psychiatrist or...or they would just have to go their separate ways. That was how it would have to be.

God he hoped the boy would just fucking accept the help because he couldn't really remember how life had been before Ivan had bullied his way in. Had they really come that far since October?

Alfred straightened up with a slight gasp as the door suddenly creaked open. Before him stood Ivan clad in his scarf, looking down at him with intense violet eyes full of emotions that Alfred just couldn't place. He'd always been a tad oblivious.

"Ivan. We need to talk." Alfred spoke, trying to sound strict and commanding. It failed in being either.

"No. Go away. You hurt big brother." Came a harsh feminine voice from the Russian teen's side. Alfred turned his head, seeing his boyfriend's younger sister clinging to his arm. She sort of reminded him of a parasitic leech. He shook the thought away. That was mean. They had just been reunited; of course she would be a bit clingy.

"Please, Ivan."

"I do not want to go to him." The taller teen snapped quickly.

"But Ivan! Listen to me-"

"No."

And the door was shut in Alfred's face. The American gritted his teeth in anger, feeling just a bit humiliated by being treated in such a fashion. So much for the mister nice guy attempt. He started to bang at the door furiously, shouting through the wood.

"Now you listen to me Ivan! If you don't open this door and talk to me about this then-then I have no choice! We can't be together! Is that what you want?" He threatened, knowing the other would open the door at the mention of losing him. They loved each other so of course Ivan would swallow his pride and just open the fucking door to talk.

There was no response.

Alfred felt his heart clench.

A twisted idea began to form within his mind, feeding despair into his young heart. "Wait...did you...did you just like me because your sisters weren't with you? Did you only care about me...because you were alone? Are you done with me now that you have a family again?" He started questioning aloud, his voice becoming softer as he continued. "Was I just a replacement, to you!" He flared up, shouting at the door and feeling like shit all of a sudden.

There was still no response.

Alfred kicked the door angrily, suddenly feeling like a piece of shit for ever believing otherwise. He hadn't meant a thing. His Dad had been right all along…

He'd wasted six months of his life. He'd fought with his family for nothing. He'd run away from them for no reason. He'd suffered so much shit…for an asshole who only needed a replacement.

"I was right! You are a no good red fucking commie bastard! I fucking hate you Braginski!" He screamed, "I hope you rot in commie hell!" He added, before briskly turning away and storming off.

He had been used.

* * *

Ivan glared at the door. Hearing the things Alfred said hurt his heart and he didn't like hearing them. He didn't like Alfred hurting but he just couldn't go to someone and talk about what had happened to him.

He refused.

Ivan would never admit it but he was scared. He was scared of opening himself up to some stranger. To show his vulnerabilities, to say things he would never dare say. Not even Alfred knew of all the tormenting thoughts that resided in his mind.

He would much rather suffer alone.

"Ivan? Why did he leave?" Katyusha asked, perplexed in her native tongue, looking at her brother with worry.

"Do not concern yourself with it, sister." He responded vaguely, turning away.

Katyusha frowned. Even if she hadn't seen her brother in a long time, she could still read his emotions somewhat. Ivan always had tried to hide his feelings behind an icy wall, but it never really worked when it came to his loving elder sister.

She could tell something was bothering her baby brother, that something was hurting him. She had no idea what, though. Why hadn't she learned English? Because she had been too old, she reminded herself. But still...She could have tried more. No use in thinking of it now.

"Vanya...What is the matter?" She probed softly.

"Nothing." He snapped back harshly, already on edge from the guilt pooling in him at refusing his lover. The voices were hissing at him, proving to him that he deserved to be alone because he drove everyone away. He couldn't drown them out.

Katyusha took a step back, the tone reminding her of days she'd rather forget, "Vanya-"

"I said it was nothing! There is nothing wrong!" Ivan growled, whirling back around to face her. He felt frustrated, and angry, and hurt because he was driving Alfred away but he just did not want to speak of this subject. Why could they not just forget about his issues and bury them away and proceed as they had before? It was much easier in his mind!

Katyusha swallowed nervously, her feet fidgeting on the hardwood floor. She had had a lot of experience with angry Russian men, and her usual tactic was to stay quiet and look away to avoid trouble. But, but this was her little brother! "I am only trying to help!" She reasoned, extending her hand out to brush some of his hair out of his face tenderly.

"Stop it! Stop helping! Everyone needs to stop helping me when I don't want help! I don't want it!" Ivan spat, slapping the hand away without another thought.

Katyusha gasped out in surprise, retracting her hand quickly. She saw something in her little brother's eyes in that one flash of anger that she had never wanted to see. "...Father."

Ivan stiffened at the word, looking at his sister intensely, "Why would you say that filthy word." He hissed.

"You-You looked like father..." She whispered, her eyes tearing up just at the thought.

Her brother's violet pools widened, and he took a step back. "Wh-What?" He breathed out in shock.

Natalia looked between them curiously, not really understanding the exchange.

"Your anger was-was just like him when you were little! Before he-he got worse..." She murmured with difficulty, squeezing her eyes shut in an effort to make the memories flooding her go away. A few tears fell down her face from the action.

Ivan rushed forward quickly, wiping away the tears _he had caused_. "I am sorry! I am sorry. I will not act so harshly again." He quickly assured, feeling sick in the pit of his stomach. Was this what would become of him? Was he on the road to becoming his father? The person he hated most in the world? Was this his ironic twisted fate?

The whispers in his ears taunted him with these sick questions, and he wanted to cover his ears and shout at them to leave him alone when they all clamored yes to every single one.

Maybe...Maybe he did need the help.

He would rather be in jail than become his father.

He disentangled himself from his younger sister (with many protests from her) and grabbed his coat. "I have to go." He explained quickly, before opening the door and leaving.

* * *

There was a knock at the Bonnefoy residence.

Alfred sprinted out of his chair, running to the door before anyone else could even react. His heart swelled up with the hope that maybe-just maybe-Ivan had come back to apologize and accept his offer. That he really did care about him.

He opened the door without another thought and immediately felt disappointed. Before him was not his handsome yet mentally scarred boyfriend but instead, his annoying friend (sometimes at least) Gilbert.

"What are you doing here?" He asked bluntly, looking over the albino's shoulder to see if Ivan was maybe coming down the sidewalk and he just couldn't see him.

Gilbert rolled his eyes, "To see your brother, duh. And it's nice to see you too, Al. Always such a charmer." He added with a smirk.

Except he didn't really feel like smirking.

"Oh shut up." Alfred snapped, turning around to yell into his house, "Mattie! Your boyfriend's here!"

Gilbert flinched at the term. Alfred didn't notice.

Light footsteps were heard coming down the stairs before Matthew appeared before them with a soft smile. "Hey Gil!" He greeted warmly.

Gilbert couldn't hold his violet-blue gaze and let his own fall to the ground briefly, "Hey Matt! Umm...I need to talk to ya..."

"Yeah, of course! Is something wrong?" Matthew asked worriedly, taking a step forward. "We can talk in my room." He added, motioning up the stairs with his head.

Gilbert swallowed nervously, "A-Actually...I can't stay long. Can we just talk outside?"

Matthew blinked, "Uh...Sure."

Alfred watched his brother grab his jacket and leave with Gilbert to talk by his car. There was a prickling feeling under his skin about this whole situation, but he decided it wasn't anything. He had more important things to worry about. Like Ivan.

Matthew leaned against his boyfriend's truck, looking at the other curiously. "What's up?" He asked, scratching at his cheek. Gilbert seemed so oddly quiet. Now that he thought about it though...he'd been awfully quiet for a while now. "I feel like we haven't hung out in a whi-."

Gilbert interrupted (as usual) and did what he did best: spoke bluntly.

"I think we need to break up."

Matthew stared at him in shock. His heart accelerated, his eyes darted about Gilbert's face to see if he was lying, joking or anything.

All he saw was pain and resolve.

"What?" He finally forced out, feeling suddenly lost and confused.

"I love you Matt. I do. But I can't play second fiddle all the time." Gilbert blurted out, ruffling his own hair about nervously. "I just...I just can't."

"What? What are you talking about?" Matthew quickly asked, feeling something he loved more than almost anything slipping away from him, right before his eyes.

"Matt…I...I really needed you these past few months, and I especially needed you the past few weeks and...you weren't there. It's always Alfred this and Alfred that and I get it. He's your brother. But...But I'd like to think I'm just as important as he is and I don't care if it's selfish because I _am _a selfish ass person and I don't like being put to the side like this!" He spilled out, fiddling with his clothing, tapping his feet, just being restless in general.

"I...Gil I didn't mean to-"

"Yeah…I know. But. I...I need to figure some stuff out with my own family. And you don't have the time to deal with that I guess, cause your family has it's own shit to deal with so I think...We should just take a break for a while."

"...A break?" Matthew echoed hollowly.

"Yeah...for like a few months or something... Until we're all sorted out and shit like that. God this is so unawesome." He muttered. "I...I gotta go home..." He said after a moment, not looking at Matthew's face at all. He opened his car and stepped inside, starting the vehicle.

Matthew hadn't moved or responded or maybe he hadn't even noticed he was leaving. Gilbert looked away and started pulling out of the driveway.

He was almost out when a desperate cry stopped him, "W-Wait!" Matthew shouted after him, looking like he was about to cry. Gilbert never wanted to see him like that, especially when he knew it was his fault. Still he stopped, "We-We can still be friends right? And-And get back together? At some point? Please..."

"Of course!" He shouted back, giving him a forced grin before speeding away. He gripped the steering wheel tightly.

He had done the right thing. It had hurt too much to feel marginalized as well as suffer from his family problems. Now he could just focus on West and Feli and dealing with that. Then...Then when everything felt ok, they could be together again and everything would be awesome like in the beginning but until then he guessed he could survive as just friends. Maybe.

Matthew watched him go silently. He felt numb. He didn't really know how to react. His boyfriend had broken up with him but not really. Apparently he hadn't even noticed Gilbert suffering, which meant he was an awful boyfriend.

He was just so emotionally confused.

He stepped in the house again, slipping off his jacket and wondering what he was supposed to feel.

"Mattie? What did he want?" Alfred asked, watching his brother come in looking despondent. His protective senses were tingling. Did he need to kick an albino's ass?

Matthew looked at his brother intensely for a moment. He had been too focus on his twin to notice Gilbert's feelings or problems. It was all Alfred's fault. If anyone was to blame, it was him.

And yet he couldn't.

Because it wasn't Alfred's fault. It was his own. And looking at Alfred who was watching him worriedly, with all the love and care his brother had always held for him, there was no way he could be angry at him for this.

He took a step forward and hugged him suddenly, pulling him in close.

"Mattie?" Alfred questioned, surprised at the sudden action. The word ended with a hint of worry.

"He broke up with me." Matthew answered in a soft whisper, burying his face in the crook of his twin's shoulder. He wasn't crying, though. He didn't know why he was…Should he be? He was so…so confused…he didn't even know.

"He what? The fucker!" Alfred growled, pulling his brother closer protectively before adding with a smirk, "I'll key his car. Wanna take a Louisville slugger on both his headlights?"

Matthew laughed lightly, pulling away with a smile, "Nah. We're still friends...He said it was just a break. Maybe it's for the best..."

Alfred frowned a little, "You sure? I can hack into his facebook you know? We can change all his personal information to embarrassing shit."

Matthew laughed again, "Hmm…Maybe. But nothing too mean."

"Mattie, you suck at being vengeful."

"Oh shut up."

* * *

The doorbell rang again, making Matthew flinch.

Alfred had insisted that he eat ice cream and watch chick flicks with him like he was suppose to after having a break up. Matthew had argued that he wasn't a girl and he didn't feel like it. Alfred had then yelled at him for doing everything wrong. And Matthew had responded that he refused to be used as an excuse for his brother to watch girly romance movies. Alfred told him to fuck off and the degenerated into an argument.

Needless to say, the two brothers were now eating ice cream while watching a Pixar movie as a compromise. It was _Up _to be exact, and Alfred was already sobbing.

"I know it's sad Al…but…She hasn't even dad yet in the little flashback and you've already gone through all the tissues in the box…"

"SHUT UP! It's so sad, they were so perfect and leave me alone with my feelings!" His brother snapped back defensively, blowing his nose loudly. It was knowing that she would die in a few minutes that made it all the worse! In fact he was just about to argue that when the doorbell rang.

Matthew flinched, Alfred didn't notice.

The elder brother sat up, going toward the door to answer it while furiously wiping at his red eyes. Their parents had gone out (something about the fact that they had been basically at each other's throats since Alfred had run off and now that he was safe, they wanted to spend some time together without the tension hanging over them. Or at least that's what his Dad had said. He was pretty sure they were just gonna have dinner, maybe get drunk and _hopefully_ rent a hotel room to do what they do instead of doing it at home. He really didn't want to wake up to those sounds.) and so the twins were left alone in their home.

Matthew paused the movie, peering over the couch to see if maybe it was Gilbert coming home to apologize, or to laugh it off as a joke or something…

It wasn't.

Alfred opened the door to Ivan. They stared at each other in equal surprise. Alfred didn't expect the other at his door, Ivan didn't expect to find him with the remnants of tears all over his face. They just stared at each other.

Alfred reacted first, he slammed the door shut with a loud, "Fuck off, commie!"

Matthew, for his part, blinked excessively for a few seconds in disbelief. He hadn't heard Alfred call the Russian that in a long time, at least not seriously…Had something happened? Then again…he had been hoping they would break up, if only for the fear of Alfred's overall safety.

It took a while for Ivan to register that Alfred had slammed the door in his face. All he was thinking about was how he had made Alfred cry. It looked like he had cried really hard. He had caused that sadness. He'd made his brilliant ray of warmth, cry.

He felt even worse.

"Alfred! Alfred…Alfred, open the door." He called through the wood, banging on it. "I…I am here to apologize…"

Alfred almost opened the door at the confession, but he held strong, "And?"

Ivan scrunched his violet eyes together, "…and?"

"And will you talk?" The American pressed, hand clenching the doorknob tightly.

Ivan let out a deep sigh, "Da."

Alfred opened the door. Ivan smiled that smile of his and moved forward to wrap him in a hug; however, Alfred refused him. Ivan gave him a frown, tilting his head in confusion.

"Were you only using me to fill the void of your sisters being gone?" Alfred asked softly, glaring at the floor with a sad frown. He fidgeted a little, tugging at the end of his shirt.

Ivan was taken aback by the bluntness of the question, but, then again, it was his American and he should have expected such behaviors by now. He smiled softly, ruffling the others hair.

"At first, I thought that. But now I know for sure. It is not so." He responded, leaning closer. This time, Alfred allowed him the pleasure of wrapping his arms around him.

"It better be, I was about to fuckin' kill you for stringin' me along like that." He spat, but the anger waned and a smile curled on his lips, especially when Ivan leaned down to kiss his cheek.

Ivan chuckled, pressing one more kiss on his lips before pulling away.

Alfred wanted to melt into that kiss, he really did. But he couldn't. This argument wasn't just about that.

"Ivan….I know, I know you don't want to but—" Alfred couldn't finish the thought because his boyfriend shut him up with a kiss. It would have annoyed him. It really would have if not for the next few words he said.

"I shall go." Ivan whispered, somewhat nervously but still with a certain determination that made Alfred know, for sure, that he would.

A sudden sense of happiness, of victory, of—_of pure love _overcame the young American, forcing him to jump up into the other's arms excitedly, wrapping his own around his neck. Ivan, for his part, was surprised by the action but it took it all in stride, supporting his weight and chuckling as he the other kissed his face.

He'd made the right choice.

And as Alfred spoke enthusiastically about everything and anything into his ear, punctuating this and that with loud kisses, the voices seemed to quiet somewhat. He wasn't clinging on a ledge of sanity any longer…he'd been safely pulled up by strong, compassionate, American hands.

And he found himself grateful for that.

* * *

oh my god

did i just finish clinging

did i

oh my god

holy shit

i can't even

Guys, thank you so so so so so so much for sticking' with me through this entire thing! Without you I would have never gotten this far! I can't even believe I made it...

If only this chapter didn't suck so much. orz

I APOLOGIZE FOR ALL THE DELAYS AND THINGS LIKE THAT. School is hard and the past month my 8 year old computer died, and would not be fixed. It would delete my documents and horrible things like that. I just got a new one, though~ Yay.

So umm...yeah...i hope you enjoyed. There hopefully will be an epilogue! And I'm still planning that prequel...but I may write a few smaller stories before then. We shall see.

THANKS SO MUCH AGAIN

I LOVE YOU ALL.

EDIT: FF KEPT REFUSING TO POST THIS FRICKEN CHAPTER. I've been trying since yesterday orz


	49. Epilogue

Alfred played with his phone, lounging in the simply decorated waiting room. He bit his lip, his eyes concentrating on the game intensely. One of his ear buds had fallen out, blasting music into the air. He couldn't put it back in. He couldn't take his thumbs away from the screen.

He couldn't risk his robot unicorn crashing into a star.

"Alfred?"

The American teen's head shot up, the other ear bud falling out as he heard the dying neigh and booming crash. "Oh hey there, buddy!" He greeted, locking his phone and putting it away hastily. "All done?"

"Da." Ivan answered, wrapping his scarf back around his neck. He fidgeted anxiously as Alfred stood up, and tried to return the others carefree smile. It came out forced. He still wasn't completely comfortable seeing Dr. Berwald once a week about his problems, but having Alfred take him made it easier.

"So, how'd it go today?" Alfred asked, as per usual, as they exited the building and padded toward his parked car.

Ivan gave a little shrug, "I spoke about my dreams. He made me take off my scarf the whole hour…" He replied, uncomfortably.

"Well, that's good." Alfred insisted, getting into the car and starting the engine, "I mean, you shouldn't be _that _attached to it. Especially since Kat's around now. Not that it ain't cute on you." He added with a slight chuckle. "Speakin' of Kat, how's the job search?"

"Toris thinks the bar will hire her." Ivan muttered, looking away, "I do not approve. But it is the only job that will let her take courses during the day…" He sighed, glaring out the window.

"Nothin'll happen to her, big guy. Don't worry." The American assured, as they drove out of the parking lot and into the busy street.

"If anything does I will make them pay." The taller teen seethed from his seat. Alfred gave him a warning glance and the Russian tried to calm himself down. Right. He was suppose to be discouraging violent thoughts.

It had been a few months since he started visiting the psychiatrist. Summer was just blooming and things had returned to their calm. More calm than ever before. With school over, Ivan found Alfred much more carefree. One could easily tell how much school stressed the American, and with it gone for three months came desperate relief.

"So, you wanna come to my house or should I drop you off at yours? Warning: Dad's flipping out from packing so it's kinda a warzone." Alfred spoke up again as they stopped at a red light. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel as he waited for a response.

"Why must you keep reminding me that you're leaving?" The Russian sighed, leaning back in his seat. Alfred smiled sadly beside him, reaching out to squeeze his hand. It was short lived because moments later the light changed and he needed both hands on the wheel again.

"It's only for a month!" He assured, "It's tradition! I'll be back before you know it." The other reminded him. "Your house or mine?" He repeated.

"Yours." Ivan replied, "And that's 30 days, Alfred."

"You'll live." Alfred laughed out, nodding at the answer. His house was closer anyway. Ivan rolled his eyes but knew the words were true. It was odd. Weeks before he probably wouldn't have. Alfred had once been a second security blanket, without him by his side he feared losing control. But now…with the voices quieting, it felt he could survive a month a without him.

Perhaps the psychiatrist was working.

It still didn't mean he liked it.

The pair lulled into idle conversation, and soon they were turning into the Bonnefoy's driveway. Alfred parked the car and they both stepped out of it, making their way to the American's door. Before Ivan could turn the door knob, though, he was tugged back around. He blinked at the other, while Alfred only smirked.

"Ya haven't even kissed me, ya big lug." He scolded, pulling him down for a kiss that was quickly returned.

"Alfred is that you—Oh stop that!" Arthur snapped, opening the door after hearing the car come in. "I need you to pack your clothes!"

Alfred pulled away with a huff, "Yeah, Dad I know. I'll do it in a minute! I'm not even inside the house yet." He complained, pushing his way into his home. Arthur let him, rolling his eyes and retreating back.

"You always put it off and then you pack last second and guess who always forgets something? Alfred, I'm sick of buying you underwear in London because you never pack any!" Arthur retorted, paying Ivan's presence no heed. He was practically always in their house anyway.

Alfred flushed, "Dad!" He shouted, "I'll go pack right now alright! Just stop talking!" He glared, stomping over to the stairs as he tugged a quite amused Ivan behind him.

Arthur let them go, going back to feverishly cleaning the living room. He couldn't stand leaving his house messy before a long trip. He just wouldn't allow for it to happen. He bent over, wiping away at the dust on the coffee table.

Two hands firmly gripped his waist, eliciting a not-so-manly squeak from the Brit. "Francis! Get the bloody hell off of me."

"I couldn't help myself!" Francis defended playfully, gently rutting against the man's behind. Arthur pushed him off easily, whirling around to face him.

"Stop being so bloody lecherous! You're supposed to be cleaning the kitchen. We're leaving tomorrow night for God's sakes!" He reminded angrily, shoving the man back toward the kitchen. Francis sighed and followed the other's commands, knowing perfectly well he wouldn't be able to change his mind.

On the second floor, Ivan sat on Alfred's unmade bed as the other fussed in his closet, complaining about his father. Ivan half listened, having heard these complaints many times before, and studied the American's backside as he searched his closet for clothing.

He was going to miss that backside.

"There, I packed my underwear, he better be fuckin' happy." Alfred glowered, turning around with all the boxers he owned. Ivan giggled lightly.

He would miss Alfred's mind even more.

"Hey Al, could I borrow some of your shirts when you guys go back home?" Matthew asked, suddenly poking his head into the room. "I don't see the point in packing more for my extra two weeks."

"Yeah, sure bro." Alfred answered with a wave, "Though, I don't see why you'll need them since you're going with your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend, Al!" Matthew snapped back, reddening slightly, "We broke up months ago!"

"Yeah, right. And you were separated for like a week before being joined at the hip again! You're not foolin' anyone, Mattie." Alfred snorted, starting to pack his jeans and other pants.

"We're just friends!" The younger twin insisted.

"Whatever you say. But after those weeks in Germany with him, I bet you 20 bucks you'll be more than '_just friends_!'"

Matthew only shot him a glare, not giving him the pleasure of a response and returned to his own room. Alfred snickered at his small victory, turning back to pack.

"Alfred, I thought you did not like them dating?" Ivan spoke up curiously, scrutinizing his lover closely. The blond blinked, looking up at him.

"Well, if Gil hurts him I'm gonna beat his ass but my bro can date whoever he wants. I was just fuckin pissed he didn't tell me. But I'm ok now. I just needed time to get used to it, I guess." He shrugged, trying to squish down his clothes to make more room. He didn't really like thinking about it, honestly. Matthew _was,_ after all, his little brother.

Ivan got up to help him and Alfred continued packing. They were silent. But it was not an awkward silence. There was simply no need for words at the moment.

Eventually Alfred finished, messily packing away a month of his life. Ivan sat back down on his bed as the American placed the suitcase by his door.

"What time are you departing tomorrow?" Ivan questioned, a bit of sadness tinging his words. He was losing someone he loved, albeit temporarily. He could never really cope well with loss, even though he knew it so well.

"Our plane leaves at 8, but we gotta be there at 5:30, so we're leaving the house at 4:30…" Alfred explained, counting off on his fingers as he took a seat beside him. Ivan was having none of that and pulled him on to his lap. Alfred laughed lightly, leaning back in the other's embrace. "Don't worry, man. It'll be gone in a flash. I'll even bring ya an Eiffel tower trinket."

Ivan remained silent.

"Hey…Ivan…Promise me you'll keep seeing Dr. Berwald." Alfred said suddenly, sternly. The Russian sighed, before giving a small nod.

"I promise."

The American smiled, leaning up to kiss him. A kiss that soon escalated into so much more.

* * *

Ivan felt cold as he waved goodbye. Alfred gave him a reassuring grin from the backseat of the car as he was driven away. Katyusha squeezed his hand and Natalia kept a firm grip around his waist.

He wasn't alone anymore. He was surrounded by people he loved.

And yet he felt like Alfred had driven away with a part of himself.

And somehow, even though it was a little lonelier, he knew he could pull through.

Ivan did not miss a single meeting with Dr. Berwald in the four weeks of Alfred's absence. In fact, he seemed to open up even more about his inner thoughts. About his deepest fears. About his darkest truths.

For Alfred, his vacation seemed to fly by as always. After the awkward first week in London with his father's not so approving family, of course. Those days were quite long and…tense. They didn't even stay in his grandparent's home, they remained in a hotel nearby. Arthur would take the boys over for tea and try not to cause a fight.

Francis wasn't invited.

And then Arthur would leave in a rush to go to a pub with his husband, leaving Matthew and Alfred to awkwardly bond with their uncles.

After the stumble in London, they were off to the French countryside to see their grandmother and aunt. There, the twins spent their days relaxing, laughing, going out into the city and trying to sneak in some French wine.

Even Arthur preferred it here than at his home, although he would never admit that to anyone—especially that smug little Frenchman of a husband.

Before the family realized it, however, their days ran out. The drive to the airport was quiet. Only Matthew was excited about the next flight, mostly since he wouldn't be going home.

"Make sure you thank the Beilschmidts thoroughly when they pick you up!" Arthur reminded, fussing with his son's clothes to hide his anxiety. Sometimes he still treated Matthew as the baby of the family. This was one of those times.

"I know Dad."

"Do you have enough Euros?" Francis asked for the third time that morning.

"Yes, Papa." Matthew replied, again. Even though the treatment was aggravating, he still beamed. He had never been to Germany. And going with Gil seemed like such a dream. His smile faded when he saw his brother doing lewd gestures in the background. It wasn't like that at all!

The overhead speakers called his gate.

He hugged his brother and parents goodbye and left for his plane.

Not even a few minutes later, Arthur wanted to make sure he was seated on the plane alright and soon found himself arguing with airport security, demanding to see his baby. Francis had to negotiate in hurried French that the Englishman was drunk and not to be listened to and quickly dragged his husband away.

Alfred soon assured his Dad that Mattie was fine by showing him a text he had just recieved got. This seemed to calm the man down for the while.

Before long, the remaining trio were on their own plane back to the United States. Other than the fact that Alfred was painfully aware his parents were attempting to join the mile high club after drinking a bit too much, the trip was uneventful. And although on the ride back he could tell that it was a failed attempt by the muttered arguments and the noticeable red bump on his British father's head (where he most likely hit himself in a cramped airplane bathroom), the ride home was also quite peaceful.

That peace was broken as Alfred had barely gotten out of his car when he was assaulted by a Russian bear hug. He laughed good naturedly, returning the hug full force.

And it was as if Alfred had never left. Ivan and his American sunflower spent their summer days together peacefully, with only the rare Russian nightmare to disturb the calm. Ivan visited his psychiatrist, Arthur asked about his progress and Alfred fell more in teenage love with him every day.

Katyusha did, indeed, get her new job and continued taking her classes. She could speak broken English, which she eagerly practiced with Alfred. Natalia was set up to start school in the fall along with the rest of the gang. Francis and Arthur were at each other's throats, and in each other's hearts as always.

And Matthew…

Well, when Matthew came home with the Beilschmidts two weeks later he handed Alfred his twenty dollars.

* * *

SO SORRY THAT THAT WAS A HORRENDOUS WAIT BUT LOOK AN EPILOGUE

It's short cause its an epilogue and I'm sorry.

And with that I can close the book on Clinging

I'm going to start hyperventilating now. And maybe have a good nice long cry because this was a 2 year plus journey.

Can I just say that every single one of you readers is amazing? For sticking through to the end of this horrificly long story and sending me the nicest of reviews full of love and encouragement? I honestly could never have dreamed to finish this behemoth without you guys. Thank you so much for you patience.

I love you all!

I hope to see you in my other fics, and in Clinging's very own prequel! So keep your eyes peeled (though knowing me it'll be a while)

AGAIN THANK YOU FOREVER I LOVE YOU ALL NEVER STOP BEING AMAZING


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